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#both of them are trying so hard to be supportive and learn about the other and somehow its working?
justkending · 15 hours
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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 4)
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Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader
Word Count: 3900+
A/N Note: Only a few more chapters to go (I think, but we're both lost on how long this series will be.) Thank you guys for reading and as always, thank you for the love and support!
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Chapter 4:
Y/N's POV
It wasn’t him. It was 100% me. I did this to myself. I built a wall so quickly around him because I didn’t want to like the man behind my misery. 
My teammates knew enough about my backstory to think they had an idea of my reason for joining SHIELD: helping the little guy because, at one point, you were the little guy—the manipulated guy—the one who no one saved, so you had to save yourself—and now anyone else who can’t do it for themselves. 
Yet, there were so many other things I kept for myself, and things files couldn’t tell you. No files existed of them, and I’m glad because I didn’t want the pity. 
James Buchanan Barnes was the reason behind my abuse. Not personally, but my abuser was obsessed with his accomplishments under the German and Russian terrorist organizations and wanted to make a female, more skilled, discrete, and sleeker version of the Winter Soldier. 
Who fucking didn’t, right? God, every goddamn evil bastard on this godforsaken shit show of a planet wants to remake something that was a once in a lifetime kind of thing and crack more than a few eggs to get to that point. Selfish asshole…
Being constantly compared to him and then beaten for not hitting the unreachable mark of the man I was ‘of no comparison to’ after years of trying to hit that standard, and then being asked to be on a team with him? A lot of emotions hit me like a train when I got that news. 
Will I amount to being the trained spy and agent I am for Shield with him by my side? Will he make me look like a completely pointless addition to the team? After five years of already working with the Avengers and then learning who the Winter Solider was? Steve’s best friend and probably the only person he could relate to in their journey? All the way to having to work with him… The change-up was instantaneous, where I would have begged for baby steps. 
Then again, when has the world made it easy for me?
So yes. I was an ass and kept him further than arm's length away to stay safe from learning that he was a good guy when I wasn’t ready to like him yet. I had a lot of trauma I never thought I’d have to work through with the infamous man himself, and that irritation and annoyance just continued when he finally matched my energy, and we never strayed from that relationship until… now.
And here he was, genuinely asking what HE did wrong when I was the reason for our enemies’ plot line. 
“Bucky, I don’t think I can talk about this right now,” I breathed out slowly, feeling the tears prick in my eyes.
It had been a minute since I cried and felt this vulnerable, and I couldn’t seem to stop it. I think subconsciously, I didn’t want to stop it, but my mind was begging my body to hold out until he was out of the room. 
“Y/N, if I did something to you, I didn’t realize-” 
“You wouldn’t have known,” I whisper, not trusting my voice to stay steady, but also not wanting to put anymore of the blame on him from here on out. 
He wasn’t a bad guy.
He had proved himself time and time again to be a really good guy. Even when he broke and decided he hated me back, he still had his moments when he put it aside and showed chivalry. I admired him for it even when I ignored the admiration. 
Makes it hard to fully hate a guy who made sure ladies weren’t opening any doors for themselves. Or a man who remembered Morgan’s birthday and bought her an ice cream cake before stealing Steve’s shield to sled down a hill her dad told her not to. Or a man you treat like absolute shit 99% of the time, and he still checks on you when you have nightmares, and he grabs water and an ice pack and helps you even out your breathing before waiting for you to go back to sleep. 
I didn’t ask him for the help, and he never mentioned the handful of times he fell into the routine of soothing me back to sleep. Never brought it up, never made me feel like I owed him, and never hinted at remembering such kindness. 
But now?
“You wouldn’t have known why it started this way to begin with. And you likely won’t,” I sigh, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth before turning around; a lot more put together, even if it was just a mask I had learned to put on most of my life. 
“I don’t understand,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at my disposition. 
“I don’t expect you to, but maybe we should go to sleep and talk about it later. It’s getting late, and you have to go to your ‘job’ tomorrow,” I say with hand quotes. “We have to keep the ruse going.” 
“A few hours of sleep doesn’t affect me,” Bucky shook his head, and I could see him itching to put his hands back on me, but he held back. “Please. I need to know what the hell I did.” 
“Again, Bucky,” I say sternly this time, all emotion I’m struggling to keep at bay shoved down. “You are not at fault, and tomorrow I’ll talk to you, but for now, I need to sleep on it.”
He read my face for lies, and I kept it neutral. I wasn’t going to break here. Now was not the time. I needed space to think about how I was going to approach this after so long of avoiding it and being put on the spot wasn’t going to work for me. 
“Ok,” he said, softer than I think I ever heard him talk. His eyes were soft and sensitive, and I didn’t know how I felt about it…
He turned and walked out of my room, gently shutting the door behind him and turning off the overhead light he had originally flashed on. 
I didn’t instantly head straight to bed. I stared at the doorway in the dark, seeing the faint silhouette of the barrier between us. He was still on the other side, and I could hear his heart rate higher than normal.
This was affecting him more than I thought it would. Why was he so worried about what I thought of him? He didn’t seem bothered by my disinterest in the past. Or at least I didn’t figure he did. 
____________________
When I woke up, Bucky was already gone. His truck, normally in the driveway, was missing, and I knew he had taken off for our mission report. 
Thankful, I took the time to make my coffee, sit on the front porch, and watch the neighborhood take on its morning routine. 
People were on runs with their family dogs, moms were doing their morning walks with strollers, some neighbors were out already tending to their gardens, and everything suburban seemed to be on track. 
Towards the end of my cup, I notice Ms. Bauer coming back from her jog she must have taken earlier than the others. 
“Oh, hello, neighbor!” she shouted when she spotted me, uniformly checking our house like her head was on a swivel if she heard a pen drop in it. 
Still in her jog, she sashayed over to my lawn, and I mumbled, “Here we go,” smiling at her as she followed the sidewalk to our steps. 
“How are you doing today, Bethanne?” I grin standing from my patio chair and going down the steps to meet her at the bottom of the flight. “Is there a run club I didn’t know about? You’re the 10th person I’ve seen getting a head start on their steps for the day.” 
She laughed and waved a hand at me before taking an earbud out, pausing her music on her watch, and placing her hands on her hips as she looked up at me. 
“There is actually a mommy and me walking club on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Depending on the weather, of course, but who knows,” she grinned up at me. “Maybe you can be joining it sooner than you thought.”
“Maybe not as soon as you think,” I laughed, holding my mug tighter with both hands so I wouldn’t strangle her instead and leaning on the banister. “We wanted at least a year in the house by ourselves before we add another set of feet to the chaos,” I scrunch my nose and add, “but I’m excited for the day Beau and I have a mini-version of us running around here.” 
“Speaking of Beau,” she grins, looking to the driveway. “Where is he today? He’s usually home with you most of the time, right?”
“Oh, it was time for him to get back to work. He took off for a few weeks to get moved in and spend time with me before we had to get back to the real world,” I answer as planned. 
“That’s right. I think I remember you guys talking about that at the first block party,” she nodded, watching me carefully for slip-ups. “Can you believe it’s only been two weeks of you guys here? I feel like you two have been a part of the community for at least a year.” 
“You’re sweet,” I gush convincingly and look out to the neighborhood for effect. “You guys have really taken us in as your family, and you don’t know how much I appreciate it. We appreciate it,” I correct and look off in the distance like I’m thinking of my sweet, doting husband when, in reality, I was thinking of the day this mission was over and I could carry on with my normal life. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned this. Beau isn’t one to really talk about it, but his family life wasn’t the best. They’ve practically been strangers since he turned 18.” 
“Oh, is that so?” she inched up, feeding on the new (fake) information. 
I nod. “When we started dating, my family took him in as his own- well, I only had my dad around for most of my life, but they got along really well. He passed three years ago,” I give a tight-lipped look as I look down at my feet in sadness. “They developed a bond, which wasn’t hard considering who my dad was. He was the best, though we might be biased in thinking that. Taught Bucky how to do a lot of things dads are supposed to teach their sons. Well,” I sniffle for added effect. “Anyway, we’re kinda on our own now. No extended family we’re close with, and with my dad’s passing, it’s really just us. So when I say we’re grateful for y’all’s hospitality, I mean it.”
She seemed to buy it, as much as an undercover convict could, and smiled kindly up at me before placing a hand on my arm. 
“Of course, sweetheart. We’re just lucky you two are some of the good ones. You’d be surprised who’s come in and hasn’t made the cut. Lawns in disarray, unfriendly attitudes, and you know the list,” she winks and rolls her shoulders back before stretching in her spot. “Speaking of being lovely neighbors, how would you and Beau feel about a dinner at our house? Reggie and I have been talking about having you over for quite some time now, and I think we can finally host.” Before I could ask, she stopped me and explained. “Kitchen renovation. It was and still is a pain in my ass, but it should be doable for a small dinner.”
“That sounds lovely,” I beam as much as I could act. It was the perfect next step, and the bait had been taken, but a part of me wanted to settle things with Bucky in our personal dispute before we put on our masks for the two main perpetrators. “Let me check with him and see what his schedule will look like now. He’s getting some new orders today, and some things are changing in the company. We’ll know more tonight. But we will for sure make it work.” 
___________
After Bethanne told me some useless neighborhood gossip, she excused herself, and I went back inside to get ready for the day and consider how I would approach Bucky on our issue. 
I knew it was time to be truthful, even if I dreaded it. Bucky had proven time and time again that he wasn’t the enemy, and I needed to deal with my issues. I was tired of wasting energy on hatred and anger, and these last two weeks proved that Bucky wasn’t the one who should have been receiving the blunt force end of my trauma. 
I had until four in the evening to come up with an idea of how I wanted to go about it, but I had stress cleaned instead and couldn’t come up with a non-terrifying way to approach this life-changing conversation.
Finally, I found it best we get dinner in the town over (as not to have any peaking eyes or eavesdropping ears as we dive into my life story I hadn’t indulged to near anyone before), and I would talk to Bucky there. However, plans changed when Bucky came home. 
From my spot in the kitchen, I heard him shout in his domesticated voice across the street, “No, that sounds perfect! We’d love to!” The door opened just as he finished his sentence, and his voice became clearer. 
I moved around the island and slowly walked toward the door to get a view of who he was talking to, and I noticed Bethanne at her mailbox waving to Bucky. 
I furrowed my eyebrows at the obvious commitment he put us in, and after he waved back, he shut the door behind him, looking at me, and dropped the act quickly. 
“What did you just agree to?” I asked, nodding my head behind him. 
He looked me up and down, and I almost forgot I had picked a new, semi-fancier sundress for our “surprise anniversary dinner” (at least the front I was trying to put on for getting out of town without too much suspicion).
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(Make whatever color you please or change it in your mind if you want! I'm choosing to pick it as a darker red.)
“You look nice,” he says as his eyes trail back up to my own, and I swear I see him take a gulp. 
“What did you agree to?” I asked again, focused more on what he had decided for us regarding Bethanne. 
His previous shocked face faded away, and he rolled his eyes slightly before throwing his work bag to the side.
“Bethanne invited us to dinner. I said yes because we need to build a relationship with them,” he replied stoically, as if my question was dumb and pointless. 
I just stared at him and let my “personal vendetta” look rest on my face. He studied me and had the decency to shrink ever so slightly. 
“What?”
“What happened to discussing things first?” I said in an eerily calm voice. 
“I didn’t think accepting dinner at a home we’ve been trying to get inside of for the last two weeks is something we’d have to discuss.” And now he straightens up, throwing his empty arms to the side. 
A few seconds later, I yelled, “You dipshit!” in a muffled grunt, keeping my voice down as much as I could handle and balling my fists in anger. 
His eyebrows shoot up and he huffs with his chest puffed out as he marches to me. I see the intent in his eyes, and I start walking away towards the opposite room closest, needing a minute not to lose my shit, and if I have to look into his stupid azure eyes like he wants to read everything passing through my mind, I’ll break.
“Don’t walk away from me,” he growls, and I shoot him a look over my shoulder as I shift my pace and head down the hallway to the bedrooms. “Y/N, stop being a stubborn ass and-”
“Unless you want a heel thrown at your head, and you’re welcome for being civil about this, I suggest you leave me alone,” I shout behind me, turn sharply to the left, and go to my room. 
“I don’t even know what THIS is! You looked at me like you wanted to kill me when I walked in, and I haven’t even talked to you today besides updates about work,” he said just as I slammed the door in his face. “Oh, real mature. Shut the door like an adolescent. Wait, I forgot. You are one…” He mumbles the last part and I hear him lean on the door.
Instantly, I whip the door open, and he doesn’t have time to predict his next move. He falls flat on his back on the wood floors of my room, only padded by a thin oriental rug I made Tony buy me. 
He’s winded from the fall and clutches his chest as I bend down next to him and say, “I said. Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone.” I stare at him for a second, solidifying my threat. I stand to walk out and only give him a glance as I pass the doorway. 
_____________
Bucky’s POV:
I left her the fuck alone. 
I may have been royally pissed (that is a blatant ass understatement), but something about the look in Y/N’s eyes told me not to push unless I wanted to wake up with my head no longer attached to my body. 
I was too scared to leave her room in fear I’d run into her when she wasn’t ready and risk taking the chances of the guillotine earlier, so I sat on her bed and tried to rack my brain to where I slipped up to cause whatever the hell I walked in to…
I knew almost instantly and realized what a stupid, simple mistake it was. Bethanne asking me to dinner set her off, I knew. But her comment about talking with each other before making decisions told me my mistake. 
Something happened I didn’t know of, and I may have just fucked whatever it was up. As for what it is? No goddamn clue. But using context clues and just basic reading of the body language, Y/N had already made a plan, and I threw it out the window, likely.
I heard footsteps before I could think further, and Y/N appeared in the doorway, taking a deep breath. She would have convinced me she was going to be civil if it wasn’t for her history, but I was excited to see which lane she chose. 
“One thing before I bite my tongue,” she says in almost a whisper, like she’s trying to keep her frustrations at bay. “You make me want to shave my head like Britney Spears in 2007 75% of the time. This moment was almost a tipping point for that kind of outcome..” She lets out a long breath like she passed the test of keeping it together. 
Surprisingly a lot more tame than I was expecting. 
“Glad you got that out of your system. Now, please tell me what the hell happened?” I asked, keeping my guard up in case she resorted to her typical insults and fury. 
“Oh, now you want to communicate,” she mocks and walks to the bed, harshly sitting next to me but leaving a copious amount of space between us. 
I let it slide because I know she’s fighting bigger demons, like the urge to insult me, until I personally dig my own grave and say goodbye to my cruel reality. 
“Bethanne was goading us,” she answers, thankfully getting right to the point. “Something about her proposition seemed off, and I wanted to clear some things up with you before we jumped on the offer.”
I nodded my head, seeing that my instantaneous reply wasn’t thought out. That was on me, yes, but she also reacted extremely dramatically, expressing an odd feeling about the interaction instead of hard proof. 
“What did she ask, and what was off about it?” I question, trying to stay mission based because something seemed off still.
“It wasn’t what it was but how she was asking. Something in her tone and the way she was looking at our house and me. Like she was trying to take in detail after detail up close. Checking for cracks in the foundation,” she answers and turns to me just slightly. “She also said her kitchen was under renovation, and something felt off about it.” 
“The vibes about our neighbor getting a kitchen renovation made you knock the wind out of me when you opened your door?” I said before I could think, but I didn’t budge, my furrowed eyebrows aimed at her. 
She matches my glare and turns her body fully to me. 
“It seemed like an excuse,” she answers slowly. 
“To what? Host a dinner? That’s kind of the opposite effect. Who would want to host a dinner when you have kitchen renovations? It means they trust us if they’re willing to let us see a house that’s not perfect like the front they put on.” 
‘That’s what you get from it, but I think they just planted a little seed of their own.” 
“What do you even mean?”
“Kitchen Reno? That’s an excuse to say, ‘Oh, Charlotte, I can’t cook the chicken pot pie I was going to make for you two because our new oven hasn’t been delivered and installed yet. You know? Because we have the kitchen under renovation? I completely forgot,’” She acted in a convincing Bethanne impersonation and then quickly turned back to serious. 
“You got that from a kitchen reno comment?” I deadpanned after a minute. 
“I got that from understanding women masterminds who know how to manipulate a situation. I am that woman, so I think I can read them pretty well,” she says confidently back. 
Touché.
“And what if you’re wrong?” Her bitchface grew at my question. 
“First off, I’m not. Second off, even if I was wrong, we are supposed to consult each other about accepting invitations into the house of our suspect enemies,” she ran a hand through her hair, which I notice now looks styled differently. Did she curl it or have it blown out? And yes, I know what a blowout is. I have women friends and coworkers.
Yeah… I was in the wrong here, and that’s on me. I wasn’t thinking. I also had a long day snooping around for more information about this whole operation, but it isn’t necessarily an excuse… It’s not like  I haven’t worked on a case like this in the past. I mean, minus being fictitiously married to a coworker. 
“I’m sorry,” I say, and she gives me a weird look. “What?”
“I wasn’t expecting an apology,” she says, standing slowly and straightening her dress. 
“I know when to accept I made a mistake,” I shrug and stand as well. 
She studies my face like there's a retort that’s going to follow, but I just stare at her silently, communicating that I’m set on my apology. 
“Ok…” she drags out, watching me as she steps toward the door. “Well, I guess we need to get ready for tonight. Considering we have dinner. With our neighbors. And we need to set up bugs if possible.”
“Guess so,” I nod, crossing my arms. 
She stops suddenly and looks at me with a look of realization. “You’re in my room.” She steps to the side, leaving room for me to leave, and avoids eye contact. 
She’s still acting weird, but I need to change and get my head in the game for tonight, so I walk out with a subtle head nod as I leave.
Marvel Tags:
@thejourneyneverendsx​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  @srrymydood​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @xa-dia​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @morganclaire4​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @connie326​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @captain-asguard​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @livstilinski @basicallylool​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @starryeyeseunbyul​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
My Lovelies Forever:
@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter1​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​ @billyseye @hallecarey1​​
Bucky Barnes Tags:
@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @enchantedbarnes
Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:
@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki @learisa @bxckybxrnes24 @lillianacristina @selella @heletsmelovehim
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lampochkaart · 9 hours
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DRV3 Infinity Train AU
Some time ago I finaly watched Infinity Train. Guys it's so good, it's insane. I highly recommend watching it, it's very good, and not too long (you can basically finish it all in one day).
But, to the point of this post, obviously I thought about crossover fusion with DRV3.
I wasn't sure if it would be better to make it a separate AU or if the AU events would take place after the end of drv3. But I was interested in the last option, because I think there would be interesting dynamics in the victim-killer pairs of each chapter. Below I will write a little about my thoughts about this AU (and there are also drawings of each pair)
❗Spoilers for all DRV3 and also a bit for Infinity Train
So, to the AU itself.
The characters get onto the Train after the Killing Game (I don’t know if all simultaneously or by chapter). They come in pairs (or trio in one case) and are linked by the same number. In order to lower their number and get off the Train — perhaps thus getting a second chance at life (that's not how the Train actually works, but I rearranged the concept a little for the sake of this AU. And anyway, it's not like the Train isn't kinda a supernatural phenomenon already, so whatever) — they need to not only solve their personal problems, but also problems with each other. That is why they are paired victim with killer, they have a lot to think about. Different pairs are in different parts of the Train, but they can sometimes cross paths with each other.
They appear looking how they were in the moment of their death. They don't have wounds, but if some parts of their costume is missing or damaged it will stay that way.
I also gave everyone numbers according to their meanings (that I partially found on internet, partialy just made up based on vibes, so I can't promise accuracy). Characters' numbers don't have to have all the listed meanings, usually it's just some of them
Number meanings:
1. Positive: leadership, confidence, ambition. Negative: dominance, overconfidence, self-absorption.
2. Positive: cooperation, attentiveness, support. Negative: duplicity, cunning, cowardice.
3. Positive: optimism, creativity, sociability. Negative: childishness, superficiality, intrusiveness.
4. Positive: stability, calm, caution. Negative: dogmatism, passivity, mistrust.
5. Positive: freedom, sensuality, adventurousness. Negative: impulsiveness, haste, intolerance.
6. Positive: solicitude, responsibility, devotion. Negative: bossiness, overprotection, guilt.
7. Positive: analyticity, intelligence, practicality. Negative: cynicism, coldness, secrecy.
8. Positive: prosperity, independence. Negative: materialism, unwillingness to listen, intolerance.
9. Positive: idealism, benevolence, compassion. Negative: unrealistic, touchiness, selfishness.
0. Positive: integrity, infinity. Negative: isolation, cyclicality.
Now I'll go into detail about each pair
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First pair: Rantaro Amami and Kaede Akamatsu.
Quite an unusual pair. Kaede is not actually his killer, so their numbers don't match. However, they appear on the Train together and after discussion decide to travel with together. Kaede blames herself very much for Rantaro's death, so she immediately rushes to apologize. But after comparing and discussing versions of what happened, they both come to the conclusion that someone else is behind Amami's death. Someone who has control over the game. Therefore, Akamatsu will try very hard to find other victims of the Killing Game. She would like to believe that there will be few of them, but Rantaro warns her that they are dealing with a much more dangerous enemy than they previously thought.
To get off the Train, Kaede will need to stop taking responsibility for everything that happens and overloading both herself and those around her. Rantaro will need to learn to share his concerns and problems with others, to become less secretive and distrusting. Both Kaede and Rantaro would need to learn to rely more on others and not hide their worries behind a smile.
Kaede's Number: 391
Rantaro's Number: 407
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Second pair: Ryoma Hoshi and Kirumi Tojo.
I kinda think that, compared to other pairs, they don't have that much problems with each other. They, more likely, need to focus more on solving personal problems. Of course, Kirumi will feel guilty towards Ryoma, she is not a heartless monster. But I don’t think Ryoma will reproach her for killing him and trying to get out. He gave her unspoken permission, although he probably expected something quick and painless.
Ryoma's hancuffs and shackle on his leg would probably be removed. I wasn't sure what to do about Kirumi's apperance, but then got idea that she could have been given clothes similar to the one they used to dress passengers in before. Unfortunately I only got this idea after I've already drawn her, so let's just assume that she'll change into it herself after some therapeutic sitting on the edge of the car and reflecting on her life. On the picture this clothes lies next to her.
To get off the Train, Kirumi needs to stop perceiving herself only as a maid. To accept that she does not have to constantly follow orders/requests, to stop taking on the role of an “adult” among others, accept that she is a teenager like the rest. And to admit that she wanted to get out not only because she had to serve an entire country, but also because she really wanted to escape, she wanted to live.
To get off the Train, Ryoma needs to learn to see the reasons to live in the little things, to remember that he has something to fight for. To pay attention to the fact that there are those who care and will grieve for him, and there are much more of them than he thinks. His life is not over yet, he has a chance and time to start again. He would have to admit that dying was very scary. Admit that in the last seconds of his life he regretted his decision.
They both need to stop devaluing their lives.
Their number is 406.
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Third group: Angie Yonaga, Tenko Chabashira, Korekiyo Shinguji.
There are very complex relationships here. Everyone has both serious personal problems and conflicts with each other. Tenko is angry at Angie and will also just despise Kiyo. Angie will not be angry, but she may try to start imposing her God again and take position of a leader. Korekiyo will mostly stil be shaken trying to sort out his feelings and will shy away from Angie and Tenko as painful reminders of what happened. This trio will have many conflicts and difficult situations, but the fact that there are three of them will be more of a plus than a minus. This way, no one will be able to impose their opinion or take advantage of the weakness of another, because there is always a third person who will prevent this. Angie won't let Tenko drive Kiyo away; Tenko won't let Angie to take advantage of Kiyo's condition to lure him to her side; Kiyo can act as a mediator in conflicts that arise between Tenko and Angie. This way they can maintain some sort of balance.
To get a way out of the Train, Angie needs to learn to listen to others, not considering her decisions to be the only correct, simply because her God advises her. She'll have to admit that she is not absolutely right. Show yourself not as a prophet who doesn't make mistakes, but as a leader who is open to discussion and change of plans.
Tenko needs to reconsider her beliefs that all men are narcissistic and selfish, always looking to take advantage of others to benefit themselves. Also to recognize that sometimes she can be too pushy, and this can alienate even those she cares about. She needs to learn to be more accepting. Recognize that good and bad actions do not depend on gender, and girls can do terrible things too.
Korekiyo will have to accept that his sister is a bad person. That she used him, that she broke him, changing him forever. That everything he did for her was wrong. Because what she herself did was wrong. She did terrible things and made him do terrible things. And neither her illness, nor even her death is an excuse, and in no way diminishes her guilt. He will have to separate his sister from himself. Separate her from his hobbies, from his tastes and preferences, from his personality, from his speech, from his gestures... Fegure out what belongs to him and win it from her. Decide that she no longer has the right to influence his life. Let her go.
Their number is 348.
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Fourth pair: Miu Iruma and Gonta Gokuhara.
Of course, they will have problems and disputes, but mostly only in the beginning. Gonta feel very guilty and will apologize to her a lot, but Miu doesn't hold a grudge against him. They will most likely only argue about Kokichi and his role in this murder, but I don’t think it will be that serious. Miu, although she'll be somewhat angry at Ouma, still feels guilty. She understands that she was the first to betray him by trying to kill him, but even at that moment she was regretting it. She was driven to such an act by desperation and fear. She regrets this, but will still argue with Gonta, saying that Kokichi lied to him and was just using him to save his skin, and Gonta will refuse to believe it.
I think Miu and Gonta have quite an interesting dynamic and the potential for both a lot of funny situations and serious conversations.
Perhaps Miu, at Kaede’s request, will build or repair a device that will allow tracking numbers or even passenges (similar to Simon's and Amelia’s devices) and will help her looking for others.
To get off the Train, Miu will need to stop compensating for her need for attention and approval with overconfidence and loud words. Admit that she tried to sacrifice many lives due to cowardice. Admit how scared and unsure of herself she really is.
Gonta will need to learn to be less gullible and stop believing that everyone around him is always smarter than him, so he needs to listen and comply. He needs to stop belittling his intelligence and knowledge, and also stop blaming himself for everything, especially if he had control over what happened. He needs to learn to stand up for himself.
I think Gonta and Miu's situation at first will be a little like Jesse and MT's, where for a while Gonta will listen to Miu's advice, not always very helpfull, without realizing that this is exactly what he needs to stop doing in order to get an exit.
Their number is 265.
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Fifth pair: Kokichi Ouma and Kaito Momota.
The idea for this AU started with them, so, naturally, I have thought out for them the most. These two have so many personal problems and problems with each other, which is a constant source of conflict. This is made worse by the fact that Kaito is trying to impose his usual "I'm helping you, I don't need help myself" dynamic, and Ouma is obviously annoyed both that Momota is forcing his "heroism" and that he's lying in his face. It goes so far that Kaito declares directly to Kokichi’s face that he, Luminary of the Stars, has no problems, he's only here because of Ouma, because Ouma won't be able to deal with his problems on his own. All this even leads to them temporarily separating, Kokichi saying that he would rather stay on this Train than put up with Kaito, and Kaito that it would be easier for him to get a way out without such "companion". Later, they reluctantly return to each other and try to cooperate again, because this is the only way to get a way out.
Their situation is a lot like Ryan and Min-Gi's. In the sense that their number decreases then increases back, then decreases again, then increases once more, at times even becoming higher than it was initially. Because they still can’t figure out how to coexist with each other. They do eventually start getting along and get an exit, but it takes them a long time and a lot of trial and error.
To get a way out of the Train, Kokichi needs to stop treating everyone around him as enemies who are just waiting for the opportunity to take advantage of his weakness. He will have to learn to open up and trust people (and not only in situations where his life hangs by a thread). He'll have to learn to openly admit when he's wrong and to apologize. And to stop running away from the consequences of his actions.
Kaito will have to learn to talk openly about his problems. Not hide them from others, “so that they won't worry”. To recognize that he is not indestructible. Acknowledge that he, too, has worries and doubts. And to stop imposing his help when people refuse it.
They will both have to learn to show their vulnerable and weak sides. Stop trying doing everything alone, putting more on their own shoulders than they can handle. Learn to ask for help. Learn to talk openly about their concerns. Learn to work together and finally, to just understand each other.
Their number is 591.
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Sixth pair: Tsumugi Shirogane and K1-B0.
Honestly, I don't really know what their relationship dynamic will be like. Tsumugi will probably be angry at Kiibo for destroying the academy (and even angrier if/when she finds out that the remaining three survived). Kiibo will probably end up on the Train without his antenna, so he won't have any sympathy for Tsumugi. I don't know if he will have a number, but in theory he's not an inhabitant of the Train, so maybe? But if not, then he most likely will leave Tsumugi on her own to decide what to do and go in search of the others. If he will have a number, he might insist on working and getting out together, and then try to arrest her.
I'll probably stick with the "Kiibo doesn't have a number" option. He will of course be upset and offended, once again realizing how robophobic the world is different he is. But, most likely, he will try to help look for other classmates, and also try to help reduce their numbers. Once Miu figures out that Kiibo doesn't have a number, and without a number the way out of the Train is closed, she will do something similar to what Jesse did: to try to make it appear that Kiibo has a number. So most likely he will be allowed to leave with her.
When it comes to Tsumugi in this scenario... Regardless of whether she was trying to replicate Junko's real game or if it was actually a multi-season show, and whether she was an employee of Team Danganronpa or if she was also brainwashed and just made to believe that she was special... Whatever the case, I think that she won't really want to be with her “classmates” and won't try to lower her number. Rather, on the contrary, she might decide to stay on the Train. It reminds her of fictional stories, the ones she loves so much. What's the point of returning to the ordinary world? Especially with those who don’t want to see her. Especially if the consequences of her actions await her there. Therefore, she is more likely to resist if they try to convince her to start working on her mistakes. She might even try to prevent others from getting out or even try to kill them (especially Kaito, Kokichi and Kiibo, since it was their fault that the game ended, and not at all the way she wanted). As a result, her number will go up, and up, and up... I don't think Tsumugi will get off the Train.
Number (K1-B0): —
Tsumugi's initial number: 5300
(5 and 3 numbers are not exactly suitable in terms of meaning, but Tsumugi simply MUST have 53 in her number, and zeros as a symbol of cyclicity and movement in a circle)
Tsumugi number (alternative): 2870
I'm planning to sketch a couple ideas of this AU that I have so far, so stay tuned I guess
As always, I'm happy to answer any questions!
AU tag is #drv3 train au
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oursecretways · 1 day
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Is this what you call self-care?
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Felix × Reader notes: I am at the point where I feel like playing 72 hours of Stardew Valley is perfectly reasonable, so I hope u enjoy my first fanfic. Also, idk about you, but I feel like he would def enjoy some Zelda 😌… also, this isn't the longest fic out there, but it is a short story after all. Enjoy!☻ word count: 1,795 warning(s): light cursing Just a chill day with Felix, while you’re trying to make progress with your uni work
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It was a regular Saturday for you, waking up at 6 AM and feeling your boyfriend's arm around you. After you turn your alarm off, you turn to look at him, smiling. His long, blond hair fell into his angelic face. It is so hard to not say fuck it and stay in bed with Felix, but you—with the smallest of movements to not wake him—get out of bed, making your way to the bathroom to get ready. After you get yourself into some comfy stay-at-home-and-study clothes, you brew yourself a cup of coffee with some coconut milk.
You've been researching for your midterm paper for a while now. It wasn't the worst topic, but selecting what's important and what isn't is where you were hopeless.
After restarting it for the hundredth time, you heard movements from your bedroom. You peeked out of the study/gaming room to see Felix's tired face, which filled your heart with warmth. "Good morning, love. How did you sleep?" He looked back at you while he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. "I slept well until some gremlin left from next to me way too early this morning." A smile crept up his face, reaching out for your hand so he could pull you in for a hug. He kept you close with one hand, resting his face on your head while you hid in the crook of his neck. His sweet scent filling your nose. "How's your university work going?" you scrunch your face, not even wanting to think about the research and writing your essay. "Well, I read a lot, but I do not know where to begin or what things are the necessities to put into my paper." You felt yourself wanting to throw a tantrum like the 5-year-old who you are at heart. He kissed your forehead, then put his pinky out. "Okay, I have a trade offer; once you're halfway done, we can play on our farm together." Your eyes lit up. You've been pretty hooked on Stardew Valley for a while now, especially since the new update, and you got Felix to play with you on his days off. Sadly, they've been pretty busy with their comeback, so you couldn't hang out as much. He usually got home by the time you were asleep, and you went to class or to the library to learn before he woke up, since it was soon time for your final exams. You only have one year back from your university, and you don't want setbacks, so it is important to get a good grade. Your parents would be pleased as well since you flew to another city to learn specifically there, so you want to make them proud. You link your pinkies together to form an unbreakable promise. "Okay, but no distractions! If you want to play, please play in the living room; we both know I won't ever finish my assignment with you distracting me." He chuckles and nods his head in agreement. You happily made yourself another cup of coffee, then went back to the study to work on your task. You still cannot believe it that you somehow snagged such a perfect man: he is supportive, understands your concerns, and can always accept your compromises. He openly talks to you about how he feels and bravely tells you if something bothers or concerns him. You honestly can't believe these past couple years have been real.
You've made a bit of progress; it helped that you talked with your old dorm roommates—you moved in with Felix about half a year now; you two realized that it would be the easiest since you went over any given chance anyways. They gave some good suggestions. Once you caught up with each other, you four said your goodbyes, since all of you have a lot of work to get done by the end of this month. After some time, you smelled a sweet scent coming from the kitchen. The door opened before you could sneak out to have a peek. Felix brought in your favorite cookies; it was a mixture of his classic chocolate chip and your oatmeal cookies recipe. You two perfected it while he got some time off, and you didn't have school just yet. His brown eyes looked at you proudly behind the plate of cookies with milk in his other hand. "How's your progress, baby?" He bent down to give you a peck on the lips. You waited until he put the plate and the cup down, then patted the ground next to you, signaling for him to sit down. He didn't waste any seconds, and plopped right next to you, happy that he could sit beside his girlfriend. Felix didn't want to make you feel pressured; he just wants to spend as much time as possible with you before he has to go back to endless dance practice, content creation, etcetera. You both know he loves doing what he does, but it can get overwhelming sometimes. They got cussed out a lot for the smallest of things, getting bullied and going as far as getting death treats. He was grateful for being able to work his dream job, and he is also happy that you understand what this kind of life comes with.
Felix watched you type your thoughts out in your document and started to play with your hair, which made you relax instantly. You couldn't help but melt into his touch. You leaned onto his shoulder, feeling exhausted. "I am almost done with half of my assignment; I just need another page, but I feel like my brain cells are giving up on me." He chuckled, placing a kiss on your head. "You got this; I believe in you." He started giving kisses all around your face, which soothed your tired thoughts. Felix eventually kissed your lips; the kiss was sweet and made you feel like you're under the sun at the beginning of the spring. You reciprocated immediately, feeling as though time had stopped—no tasks, no school, no pressure—just you and him tangled together in a complete state of Nirvana. Before it could get heated, Lixie pulled away, holding you firmly, so he kept up his strenght to not distract you further. "Is it okay if I play Zelda while I lay in your lap?" You saw a hint of pink on his face, making you smile. "Well, I am close to finishing it, so why not? I don't think it can cause any harm." Felix got up excitedly to get his switch with his headphones. He laid down and got comfortable, then started playing his game. He has been quite into it lately. The game was beautiful, and there were a lot of things to do. The excitement in him got you into playing it, asking for his help in some harder situations.
When you got done with half of your paper, you looked down and saw a sleeping Felix with a gaming console on the ground next to him. He looked so peaceful like this: his pink lips parted, his eyelashes casting shadows on his face, and his freckles painting constellations onto his features. You can't help but start connecting the dots on his face with your fingers, making his eyes flutter as he awakens. "What are you doing, gorgeous?" You lean down to kiss him as a response. You feel like you're going to explode with all the feelings inside your chest. "I am done with half of my paper; I didn't want to wake you, sorry." You pout just a little, earning a smile as he reaches for your face to caress it. "That's my good girl. Are you ready for some farming time?" You nod, knowing that you're going to end up either playing until the sun gets up again or none at all and will end up cuddling in bed.
You two made some lunch and plopped down besides each other. Your desks have been set against one another, his PC taking up one desk while yours is cluttered by notes and books for your university courses; you just keep pushing it back each time you take your laptop out instead of organizing it. Felix tried to reason with you or help with that mess, but that's how you were, looking unorganized yet knowing exactly what is where, always on point. That's what your grades always reflect: perfect or almost perfect scores, even though you procrastinate until the last minute. He smiled to himself, knowing how he and the boys wished they had this superpower.
You put on your two's favorite chill playlist and booted up the game. We made a lot of progress, stopping to occasionally show physical affection for each other or taking a quick bathroom or snack break. I didn't even notice how the time flied until you looked down on your watch, seeing that it had passed five a.m. "Yongbok, we have a problem. Have you checked the time?" He has been so into the game that he almost looked up into the corner to see the in-game time, realizing that this might become a problem in the future. "Oh shit, I didn't notice when it got this late. I mean, I am going to be okay; I won't work for a couple of days now, but when do you need to send this assignment in?" he asked, knowing damn well that you have a habit of sending in your tasks with one minute left on the clock, giving him a scare. One time, Chan got to see your study progress and felt his soul leave his body. He still remembers how he and Han watched how their leader scolded you about your academics and your attitude towards your learning, painting a picture of an overworked father lecturing his rebellious daughter, who—no matter what she's doing—will always be his treasure. It never got said out loud, but you became the younger sister of the group, with all the older members looking out for your happiness and safety. And Felix isn't sure that if you two ever break up—which, let's face it, is highly unlikely—he wouldn't get the shorter stick and wouldn't get scolded.
Once you two saved and logged off for the day, got ready for bed, you snuggled close to each other leaving sweet kisses on one another, fighting the strong urge to sleep. When he heard your breathing change, he knew that you were fast asleep, what he waited for all along. It makes him happy and calm, knowing you are asleep. He pressed a light kiss on your forehead.
"Good night, my love," and with that, he dozed off to sleep as well.
🏷️: open lmk if you want to be added
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moeblob · 15 days
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I'm sorry for the OC brain rot on main....
(the lines are from a post about "tag yourself: awkward/unflirty Sims edition" and honestly? all my OCs are awkward/unflirty so ... yeah...)
#my characters#they (my OCs in general) are not mine if they don't pine and fail at romance#and the fact one of the options WAS actually ask an inappropriate question??? deacon coded if there was ever something deacon coded#i have so many stupid ideas for ymber having the worst comments that he THINKS would be flattering in his head and then he hears it out lou#and is like oh no that was awful im going to be abandoned for that and i deserve it oh wow dang that was so bad#both of them are trying so hard to be supportive and learn about the other and somehow its working?#no one else knows HOW it works but ok buddy#like i saw a mug in a coffee shop that i DESPERATELY want to draw in the modern au i have#with Oh handing it to Ymber saying AH HA found a mug I can gift Deacon the next time you fuck up with talking to him#and then doesn't buy it but is thinking about it and then later that day Ymber says something v blunt and non flattering#and Oh just ARE YOU KIDDING ME I DONT HAVE DEACONS GIFT BC YOU SAID YOUD TRY HARDER AT THIS#the mug in question said#congrats on your breakup we hated him#and there were sparkles around breakup#and it was so funny to me i just .... thinking about how much Oh would love to give it to deacon as a sorry my friend is so bad at this#i really wanna draw more of the sims fail options with the others in the plot but hey i can post it on my side blog and spare you all here#i was thinking about a fanart idea earlier this morning and completely forgot it by the time i sat down to draw#gomen gomen i was gonna try to not do ocs on main but.... alas....
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toytulini · 28 days
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oh. i was gonna reblog the one defending toshiro too from a cultural perspective but the reblogs are off. rip
#toy txt post#dungeon meshi#not to both sides centrism it but i am gonna both sides centrism it a tiny little bit#yes toshiro shouldve corrected his name and shit. but i can also see the line of thinking that leads to not doing it?#hes probably its not a big deal he'll figure it out eventually. maybe after meeting ppl who refer to me by my name#he'll take the hint and be like oh shit wait fuck is it not shuro?#it is Hard to learn to Read The Room and even. sometimes often i think. even neurotypicals will fail that#and if you are actively bottling up the room and hiding it you really cant get That Mad. it was really#like major clash of communication styles there. exacerbated probably by toshiro running himself ragged in his search for falin?#which would make him have less of a reserve of patience to continue bottling up his frustrations and brushing it off#and he was probably trying to brush it off and Be Nice to Laois and humor him etc thinking that it wasnt a permanent situation and that he#wouldnt be living w him forever or whatever#so why would he hurt his feelings when he clearly means no harm by it? whats the point of that? it would be mean!#better to just ignore the frustrations and treat him nice and eventually itll stop being a problem! except oops it didnt stop being a#problem#i understand laois's frustration and its fair. and i also understand where toshiro is coming fro. and i understand how he got to that point#and i wonder if he hadnt been running himself ragged if he wouldve kept bottling it up? but maybe not bc its also exacerbated by#his anger at them doing black magic to resurrect falin?#which. that i dont get. chill bro its just a little black magic its fiiiiiine its the lunatic magician whos the problem! not#marcille or falin. loosen up bro#half joking about that#not to be an uncultured mon magic user or whatever but no offense but how is it really any worse than the other magic it just seemed like#magic with a little more. blood. idk guess im a Black Magic Apologist. what Marcille did is so in line w the ethics of my own personal#magic using ocs for my own shit. whats the problem. toshiro and chilchuck are just haters smh#and the whole world. poor marcille#marcille 🤝 wei wuxian. black magic support group. fuck it im inviting regina mills to it too even tho shes got other shit going on
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hyperfixating-rn-brb · 6 months
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The Good Omens Fandom has had a lot of fun recently with the knowledge of Aziraphale and Crowley holding hands on the bus at the end of season 1.
Soo here's everything that went through my head as I learned of it for the first time.
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For that entire scene, Aziraphale is really far gone. He's dissociating so hard he can't even realize he's been sitting on a sword. Crowley is probably the only thing keeping him grounded.
They just narrowly stopped Armageddon after a showdown with literally Satan, and still can't let their guard down. For the first time ever, they're completely on their own side. Now they have to orchestrate a body swap to save both of them. They wouldn't just be killed, they'd be completely destroyed. Everything must go exactly according to plan, but how often does that actually happen?
And on top of that, his bookshop, his home, his safe place with the demon he has to pretend not to love is burned and gone.
Crowley is so incredibly gentle and reassuring this entire scene. He's been through so much trauma himself and has spent a lot of his existence shielding the angel from it, hoping to protect some of his innocence and naivete. Crowley is absolutely familiar with every symptom of PTSD and anxiety.
Now he has to see his sweet angel see such a small bit of the horrors of heaven and hell and start to crumble inside. He's going to do his dam best to try and help Aziraphale through it. Speaking softly, ("the bookshop burned down... remember?) slowly and carefully, gradually helping to pull the angel back to reality, reminding him that he's there and will help ground him.
They get on the bus, and sit next to each other. 11 years ago, they sat nearby but separated while Crowley begs Aziraphale to help him prevent the Apocalypse. Now they are sitting together. Both an act of reassurance and unity.
Crowley sits first, Aziraphale could so easily just sit across from him, behind or in front. But he chooses to sit right next to him. And hold his hand. Aziraphale desperately needs to be near to the *former* demon he loves, to hold him, to make sure they won't be separated.
In the book, their famous lines of "none of this would have worked out if you weren't, deep down, just a bit of a good person" and "just enough of a b*stard to be worth liking" came as Satan rose from the earth, as a goodbye in case they were destroyed.
Luckily, that didn't happen and they survived. Armaggedon was stopped. But the angel is still so anxious of losing Crowley. So he chooses to reach out, to anchor himself and reassure himself that Crowley is still there beside him and that they are okay, at least for a few minutes.
And Crowley let him. He knows how badly Aziraphale needs him, he needs the angel just as much. He knows how badly he craved an anchor and support system as he was first abused and traumatized by his Fall, then further by Hell. So he's going to continue being there for Aziraphale, doing everything he can to make his angel feel safe and comfortable.
Over the next few years, Aziraphale would become so much more comfortable reaching out and touching Crowley. Leaning into him, resting a hand on his shoulder or briefly touching his chest. Somehow both reassuring himself that the former demon was still there, and reminding Crowley that he's still there for him at the same time.
Then Crowley becomes more comfortable with the touch, leaning into the angel by himself. No longer flinching at a sudden graze of a hand or reassuring squeeze.
That one moment of the two holding hands on the bus cemented so much of their relationship. "The last few years, not really..." all started on that bus the moment Aziraphale chose to sit down next to Crowley.
edited: at first this said "new knowledge" because I just found out about this all the other day, and wrote this up at 3 AM, and didn't really fact check when this knowledge became well known. I've only really been a GO fan since maybe 2021, and only really started being active in the fandom during the last few months, so a lot of info that is fairly well known is still generally new to me. soo yeah this was edited :)
source for anyone asking for it!
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absolutely-esme · 4 months
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What do you mean he's not eldritch?
What if all of the members of the Bat Family other than Tim Drake were secretly eldritch abominations?
They all work very hard at pretending to be human, and they've even gotten pretty good at passing. They can even mostly avoid the uncanny valley when in their civilian identities. There was a heck of a learning curve, but they've gotten things figured out for the most part.
Enter: Tim Drake
Weird, poorly socialized, probably autistic Tim Drake
The Bats think they've encountered a fellow eldritch being in disguise, and one that seems like he could use some help blending in. Naturally, they're quick to welcome him into their fold. Jason is delighted to take his turn at being a big brother mentor.
It takes a comedically long time for anyone to realize something's up because there is an absurd amount of overlap between stuff you need to know for masking and stuff you need to know to pass as human.
Meanwhile, Tim is amazed that the Bats have apparently decided he's cool enough to hang out with. It's like something out of his daydreams. They even have good advice for him on problems he hadn't known how to ask about. They are so patient and understanding about it, too. They never get annoyed with him for not already knowing. They also seem to be okay with the bits of weirdness he can't change.
Just weird kid Tim getting bundled into an incredibly helpful and supportive found family of eldritch entities. They're all going to get a good grade in human-ing, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve.
...
I imagine the Bats are various different kinds of eldritch abominations because they're still adopted. They look wildly different when not in human form.
Bruce is a mass of... shadows? Smoke? Something dark and formless that shifts and flows in different ways depending on his mood.
Dick kind of looks like a pile of owls that is also somehow a single body.
Barbara is a spiral galaxy with stars that are also eyes somehow?
Jason is a solid-looking mass of muscle with six strong legs, a thick coat of shaggy hair, a mouth that opens much further along his body than it seems like it should, and even more teeth than you'd expect a mouth that size to have.
Stephanie Brown is kind of like an incredibly dense storm system with purple glitter.
Cassandra is a silhouette through which undiscovered nebulae can be seen. What she is a silhouette of depends on her mood.
Tim, they have only ever seen in his meticulously well-crafted human form. He's really good at that part even if he needed some help with the behavioral bits.
Damian is half human. Talia saw a mass of living darkness trying really hard to pretend to be a man and decided she was into that.
...
Dick: So, eye contact is actually pretty simple once you have the formula figured out. You need to cycle between looking at the other person and looking at something else at the appropriate frequency. If you look at them too much it will come across as staring. If you look away for too long they'll think you're not paying attention to them. You'll need to experiment to figure out the appropriate frequency.
Tim: *frets*
Jason: You don't have to look straight at their eyes, just in the general direction of their face.
Tim: Oh! I can do that!
...
I think Eldritch Bruce having history with the league of assassins in a markedly less inentional way than Canon would be funny. Like, you'd think an encounter between an eldritch abomination and a cult would be deliberate on someone's part, but no.
Bruce was still young and unskilled at differentiating between normal and abnormal human behavior.
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sp0o0kylights · 8 months
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Bullshit.
The word rings obnoxiously in Steve’s ears as he pushes his way out back, not wanting to be anymore of a talking piece at this party than he already was.
He’d just wanted Nancy to stop drinking, take a second, pace herself…
Steve swipes furiously at his eyes, and then curses when it nearly causes him to run into Chrissy Cunnginham, who’s perched in a chair tucked away from the patio door.
“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes, trying not to sound like he’s upset, trying to keep his cool--only for her to look up and away, brushing off her own tears.
“Oh.” Steve says, a little laugh bubbling out of him. “You too huh?”
Thankfully she correctly interprets that he's not laughing at her, and adds her own giggle to the mix, the sound gentle even if pitched in upset.
"Boy problems?" Steve asks her, sinking down to the vacant chair on Chrissy's right.
She nods, clasping her hands together in her lap.
"Girl problems?" She asks back, and he grimaces a smile.
They sit for a minute, Steve pulling out a cigarette and offering it to her before lighting up. Chrissy shakes her head, and though her nose curls a little at the smoke she doesn’t say anything.
Neither of them do, staring at the few people bringing the party outside in the way only drunk teenagers can.
"Can I tell you something?" Chrissy says finally, as Steve continues to struggle to keep himself breathing evenly (and not spiraling. He still has to go back and try and escort Nancy home, and he needs to keep his temper when he does it.)
She licks her lips. "I keep trying to break up with Jason, but he won't let me."
It takes a second for the words to register, but when they do he leans himself towards chrissy in concern. “What do you mean, he won’t let you?”
“He’s not--it’s not…”She trails off, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “He talks me out of it is all.”
She’s downplaying it, and Steve’s concern grows tenfold. “Does he argue with you or just…tells you no or something?”
"It's complicated." Chrissy says, refusing to look at him. "He has this vision for me, for us."
Steve watches as she worries at a hangnail.
Feels the need to reach out and take her hand, but keeps his own hands to himself.
If Steve has learned anything, it's that not everyone wants to be touched as much as he does.
"He keeps telling me I'm just being anxious. That I should trust him, and I do, he just expects me to always do what he says? And more and more lately I--"
She huddles down into the little cat costume she's wearing, pulling the thin black sweater around her. "I want different things than he does."
Steve wonders vaguely if Nancy wants different things.
Or a different person entirely.
"That's not fair to you." Steve says, leaning forward and lowering his own voice. "He can't keep you in a relationship you don't want to be in."
A hard thing for him to say, after the bathroom conversation but this is different.
‘Please, let this be different.’ He thinks, before pushing the thought aside.
"He can't force you to do what he wants just because he wants it, or thinks its best. He should be listening to you and what you want too. Relationships are about…compromise right?” It’s what he’s heard anyway, though most of the time “compromise” means “letting the other person get what they want.”
Which is what he thought he’d been doing for Nancy all this time.
“I can help you if you want. Be your," Steve poorly mimes waving a pom pom. "cheer support."
Chrissy looks at him, eyes still wet. "You would?"
"Of course.” He says, before scooting just a smidgen closer. “Might have to ask you to return the favor though. Nancy said some things tonight and I could really use a second--”
A loud curse makes them both startle, interrupting Steve.
Together, they look around before another noise, like bark being scraped, draws both their attention to the large oak that stands in the backyard.”
"Is…is that Eddie Munson?" Chrissy asks.
"I think so."
Chrissy squints a little, as if not quite believing what she's seeing. "Is…he stuck in a tree?"
Steve finds himself staring in his own disbelief, hands moving to his hips as he watches Munsons wriggling, cursing form.
"I think so." He repeats with a shake of his head.
Eddie's foot slips off a branch, once, twice.
"Hey--" Steve calls out in warning, but unfortunately it comes too late.
The branch under his foot gives away with a startling crack! as another branch shreds Munson's jacket as his full weight caches on it.
"Oh!" Chrissy gasps, hand flying to her mouth as Eddie falls right onto his ass with a yelp.
"You good man?" Steve asks, rising from his chair, hesitant to go over but needing to make sure the idiot hasn't cracked his skull open.
Chrissy has no such qualms, popping up to run over to Munson.
"You're bleeding." She tells him worriedly, dropping to her knees to get a better look.
"Well shit." Munson says with a wonky grin. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?” Chrissy asks, as Steve’s newly honed babysitting instincts kick in and drive him to get up and look at Munson’s injury himself.
Chrissy carefully strokes the older teen’s hair out of his face, as Steve bends down to check his head and neck.
"You hurt anywhere?" He asks, spotting the scratch that had Chrissy worried.
It’s on his forehead--the guy must have knocked his face against the tree when he fell. Head injuries always bleed a ton but this one's well contained to a small scrape.
Probably not a concern, though Steve looks at his pupils anyways.
"Nah, I’m pine. I didn't mean to drop in on you guys.” He waves a hand behind him before dropping his voice to a dramatic whisper. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that tree, it was pretty shady.”
Steve, long trained by Dustin, narrows his eyes. "Are you making puns right now?"
"Maybe?" Munson hedges, looking delighted to have been called out.
“Uh huh.” Steve puts his hands back on his hips, straightening up from where he’d crouched down. “Your head okay? You remember your name and shit?”
“Edward Edwardian Munson, present and ready for duty!” He gives a mock salute, before dropping Chrissy a wink. “If the duty is drinking and playing games that is.”
“Your middle name cannot be Edwardian.” Chrissy laughs.
"It is!" He defends, at the same time Steve says,
“It's not "
“Oh?” Munson challenges, as if this entire situation isn’t ridiculous. “Then what is my middle name, Sir Steven?”
“No idea, but I know it’s not that.”
Munson blows a raspberry at him. “Well then, maybe you should mind your own beeswax."
"Like you were doing? Up in the tree right above us?" Steve banters back.
The playful look dies a little, Munson beginning the painful process of standing after one falls.
"For the record, I absolutely was not eavesdropping, you guys just happened to be under the tree I climbed and I was there first. " He says it rapidly, like he's used to being accused of such things, and is heading off as many problems as he can.
Steve just ignores it, opting instead to hold his hands out. One to Chrissy and one to Eddie.
Watches surprise cross the older teens face, even as he waits for Chrissy to get up before accepting Steve's hand.
"Why were you up a tree? The family dog run you up there?" Steve grunts as he pulls the metalhead up.
"Funny." Munson quipped sarcastically. "But no. I was up there for reasons."
'Reasons.' Steve mouths, and has to fight himself to keep from grinning.
"Even though I was there first, I did happen to hear some things." He looks at Chrissy, voice turning serious. "If you need any help getting things through Carver's thick skull I'd love to lend a hand."
"You would cheer for me too?"
"Oh absolutely. I'd make a far better cheerleader than Harrington here." He shoots a grin towards Steve to take the edge off the words, before doing a far more enthusiastic mimicry of the cheerleaders pom pom routine.
"But I know how much Carver hates the word no. If you break up with him and he gives you shit after, I'm happy to step in."
Steve hadn't actually thought about that yet, but given what he knew of Jason it makes sense.
He could easily see Chrissy worrying about Jason harassing her after the break up.
"Thank you. Both of you." She sniffs. "Eddie, are you sure you're okay?"
"Right as rain!" Munson gives a rather theatrical thumbs up. "I'll let you in on a family secret, we Munson's have rubber bones."
She gives him another giggle for his efforts, and even Steve can’t fully cover his
Munson, the ass, notices.
“Well call me the court jester, I got both the King and Queen to smile!” He cheers.
Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny it.
"Chrissy!?" Someone barks, loud in the otherwise quiet backyard.
"Speak of the devil." Eddie drops his voice dramatically as Jason strides out of the house.
"I've been looking for you." He chides, two of his friends following close behind.
They're younger members of the basketball team, ones Steve's brain sluggishly attempts to remember.
"Are your knees dirty?" Jason asks Chrissy, disgust tinting his voice as he slowly looks from her to Munson next to her.
His eyes narrow, expression almost offronted.
"You heathen." Jason snarls, stepping forward with a fist clenched.
It was a move right of the sitcoms Steve swore he didn't watch, and it looked just as cheesy in real life as it did on screen.
"Calm down." Steve speaks up, hands going to his hips.
Jason's head jerks as he registers him, so focused on Munson that Steve slipped his notice entirely.
"Harrington?" He asks, as if Steve could be mistaken for anyone else here.
Steve gives him jazz hands in return.
"What are you doing out here?" Jason speaks only to Steve, whole body angling towards him like he's the only person who matters.
It's something Steve's dad does, if there's a businessman he considers to be an equal in the room. Zoning in on them, so he can subtly work in ways to make them feel inferior.
It's narcissism at its core (or so says his mother, when she's blitzed out on too many glasses of wine.)
"Talking to people." Steve deadpans. "If you're looking for beer, you walked past it."
Jason entire face pinches, like he just stepped in dog shit. "No one just talks to Munson."
It's a stupid thing to say, and whatever Hason was trying to imply with it wasn't appreciated.
"Well mark me as the first." Steve's hip cocks, voice frosting over.
Surprise washes across Munson's face, though he remains silent as Steve deals with Jason.
Probably a smart move, given how Jason seems to be eager for a fight.
"Whatever it is you're doing, you can leave Chrissy out of it." He says, and god his voice even sounds like Steve's dad.
"Chrissy," Steve says, with an eyebrow raise he knows looks judgemental, "can speak for herself."
He turns to face her, inviting her to the conversation, in the same way he'd always wished someone would invite his mother to speak against his father.
Watches as the cheerleader bites her lip, trying hard to hide the tears that have sprung to her eyes--but proves that she's stronger than Steve's mother ever was.
She steps forward, taking the opportunity offered to her with a steadying breath. "Jason--"
"You can explain it to me later." Her boyfriend waves her off, like she was a waitress offering water and not his partner.
Uncaring entirely that she's clearly upset.
That she wants to talk.
Munson has come to stand on Chrissy's other side, gone still in a way Steve's never seen him do.
It's downright weird for a guy who's normally always moving, and Steve knows it's defensive.
He's feeling a little defensive himself right now, though he doesn't want to particularly untangle why.
"Jason, listen to me." Chrissy tries again.
In his preffery vision, Steve spots a flash of familiar color. Turns his head automatically, seeking it out--and sees Jonathan hustling Nancy across the room.
The younger man is trying to balance Nancy while opening the front door, and for a second Steve almost beelines for them, except--
Except.
Nancy's whole body moves in what Steve intimately knows is an exhale, leaning her head in the crook of Jonathan's shoulder.
One arm wraps around his waist, as Jonathan finally gets the door open, and Steve watches with a stunned sort of horror as his girlfriend presses a kiss to Jonathan's shoulder.
It's fine.
He's fine.
Nancy was just--drunk. Seeking comfort. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't mean it like that, she didn't--
"Oh shit Harrington." Jason drawls, a lazy sort of taunt. "I think Byers just stole your girlfriend."
Steve's head snaps back to him, the emotions he was attempting to box up flying to the front of his brain like dogs who slipped their leash.
"Never thought a priss like Nancy would be easy like that, but then, you never were the kind of guy to inspire loyalty." Jason continues, clearly ignoring his own girlfriend and all Steve can see is red.
Munson sucks air between his teeth next to him, nervously eyeing Steve while Chrissy's eyes have gone wide with shock and growing anger.
"Jason!" She admonishes, but he's not even looking towards her.
That too sharp smile is all for Steve.
He thinks of Nancy, the way she'd been so angry with him but so gentle with Jonathan.
He thinks of the monster he faced down in the Byers house, the terror that had shrank down to that same adrenaline soaked focus he had on the basketball court.
He thinks of this asshole Junior in front of him.
Making Chrissy cry just because she'd been kind enough to try to help Eddie, and accept Eddie's kindness in return when the weirdo tried to help her and Steve both.
Steve taps his foot, then switches his stance.
'Plant your feet.' Hargroves voice snarls in his memory and Steve wouldn't be surprised if the asshole abandons the keg long enough to come watch this.
Have his turn at heckling, just because he can.
Steve plants his feet anyway.
"You know what Carver?" He says, hands dropping from his hips.
Jason's face curves into a smile. "What?" He says, tone smarmy.
"You're full of shit."
Hand cocking back of its own accord, Steve puts every bit of himself into his punch.
Feels it reverberate up his arm as his knuckles connect to Jason's cheek.
It's going to hurt later, but right now all he can do is stand over Jason as the asshole's head snaps sideways, legs staggering him backwards until he's falling into his friends.
Chrissy gasps, Jason's boys chanting variations of 'Oh shit!'
Steve just glares him down.
The junior wipes his bloodied mouth, letting his friends push him up before shrugging them off.
"You're going to regret that." Jason snarls, and Steve squares up a second time, expecting to be rushed, when the sharp snickt! of a switchblade freezes them both.
"I think we're done here." Munson says, knife in hand.
The blade he holds is stained a deep, russet red. Crusty flakes fall off it, drifting gently down to the patio floor.
Jason's eyes boggle at it for a moment before he stands up straight.
"Now it makes sense. You're weak, Harrington, letting the Freak get his claws into you." Jason spits bloodstained saliva down at Eddie's feet. "No wonder Coach wants Billy as co-captain!"
Steve just scoffs.
"Chrissy!" Carver barks, making the poor girl jump. "Come here, we're leaving!"
Trembling, but stepping closer to Steve, she shakes her head.
"Chrissy." Jason orders again, and has the audacity to point to his feet, like a man commanding his dog.
"No." Chrissy says it quietly at first, voice a little shaky, before she seems to realize it.
She stands taller, repeats herself in a stronger voice. "No, Jason. We're done."
Jason stares at her, hard. "Chrissy, your mother told me to bring you home. So I'm going to take you home and get you away from this--demon and his lackey!"
It doesn't sound loving.
It sounds like a threat.
He steps forward, hand out to grab her arm and Steve tenses, shifting to step in front of Chrissy.
Eddie beats him there.
The word demon seems to awaken something in him, because his face is now grinning theatrically, voice dipping low in pitch.
"You heard her, Carver. She said no, and even I respect a lady's wish. So run along now," he walks two fingers in the air, from the hand not waving the knife around. "before I decide to make you and her both one of mine, just as I did Harrington!"
Jason actually crosses himself, before making one last attempt for Chrissy.
"That monster is dangerous. if you don't come with me, I'll have to alert your parents." He locks eyes with her. "For the good of your soul."
Steve snorts at that crock of shit, but Eddie lunges forward, slashing the knife in the air.
It's nowhere near Jason, but the guy leaps a foot back anyway.
"Begone!" Eddie booms, and that's all it takes for Jason and his cronies to huff and puff and stride away.
He keeps his arms in the air for a few beats more, before dropping them when it's clear Jason won't be back.
"So I'm yours, huh?" Steve drawls, as Eddie finally puts his hands down and turns to face them.
The guys scary face drops into something almost excited, and Steve can practically see the adrenaline crackling through him.
"Hey it worked. Carver's a religious nut, he goes running anytime you even hint at Satan." Eddie shrugs, grinning wildly. "Put on a little show and poof! Him and his flying monkeys melt away!"
He mimes melting and Steve stares at him for it, until he hears Chrissy laughing next to him.
Eddie grins at her and Steve is hit with the realization that it was for her benefit. To make her feel better about her psycho ex.
Something fond and familiar winds through his chest as the other boy bows.
He refuses to put a name to it.
"Did you paint your knife?" He asks instead, rubbing the hand he hit Jason with.
"What?" Eddie asks, startled out of his court jester act.
Steve nods to his hand holding the switchblade. "That's not blood, it's way too red."
"Ah." Eddie turns the grin back on, and this time it's for Steve. "Yeah, it's uh. Modeling paint. Not like Carver would know the difference."
Unspoken was the fact that he hadn't thought Steve would.
Prior to last year, he'd have been right.
Drunken cheering erupts into wild yells inside, breaking whatever spell the three of them were under.
Hargrove's voice is the loudest among them, and the dude is definitely wasted.
Steve has a feeling Hargrove also knows the difference between paint and blood, rendering Munson's knife trick useless if the dick tried to start something.
"Do you want a ride home, Chrissy?" He asks quietly.
"If it's not a bother." She says, wiping tears shed refused to let fall from her eyes.
Chrissy Cunningham was a lot stronger than people gave her credit for.
"Come on, Munson, I think it's time we all make our exit." Steve says, finding himself weirdly unwilling to leave the older teen behind.
Eddie could hold his own, but given how badly things were playing out Steve figured it was best if they all just called it a day.
"Yeah lemme just…" Munson puts his blade away, fumbling at his pockets for a moment before turning and snatching up a metal lunchbox.
"There! After you, my liege." He says, before opening the lunchbox to make it talk.
"My lady." He makes it say, pitching his voice high.
Chrissy breaks into giggles again and Steve rolls his eyes, but he claps his good hand on Eddie's shoulder as he walks past.
Eddie smiles at him, this one a bit softer than the others, eyes sparkling and Steve chooses not to read into that either.
The three of them walk together, Eddie splitting off to his van after Chrissy thanks him.
Part Two
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theemporium · 3 months
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[3.3k] a friendship begins to blossom between you and luke as he begins to feel more settled in new jersey. the jump from college was intense, but he was somewhat glad he had a supportive group around him. and maybe his makeout sessions with you were a great stress relief too. (less smut and more heated makeout)
series masterlist
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cherry🍒: i don’t believe you can cook 
cherry🍒: sounds fake tbh
Luke snorted to himself, his lips twitching upwards as he stared at your message. You had sent it at some point during practice, continuing the conversation the two of you had been having the night before.
The irony wasn’t lost on him.
Less than two weeks ago, he was practically dry heaving on the ice at the idea of meeting up with you and now there hadn’t been a day the two of you had gone without talking. 
He didn’t even text his brothers this much when they were apart, and now he was practically glued to his phone whenever he got the chance—something Jack loved to point out. 
Pre-season training was intense, he expected as much when he entered the NHL. Both his brothers had warned him about it, too. He just hadn’t realised how intense it was going to be, or how big the jump between college to professional hockey would be. 
And he didn’t realise how much more he would be eating. 
Jack had found it fucking hilarious. He continuously chirped his little brother for always having a snack in his hand. Whether it was in their apartment, on the road or in the locker room, Jack would be the first to laugh, teasing him about being a ‘growing boy’. The rest of the team were a little more sympathetic, but that didn’t stop them from making some jabs themselves. 
It meant that Luke had to adapt, meaning he had to learn to cook more meals beyond the three staples that had got him through college when he wasn’t relying on any meal plans. And it meant he was getting pretty fucking good at it too, much to his own surprise. 
hockey boy: i cook so well, you’re just jealous
He paused, his shirt still half-hanging around his neck as he saw you typing. 
cherry🍒: prove it then
Luke grinned. 
hockey boy: i’m about to blow your mind with my steak subs 
He felt a rush of anxiety—a good kind, for once—when he saw the bubbles show up on his screen again. He waited, anticipating your response. He had practically forgotten about the fact he was standing in the locker room, half-dressed after practice until he heard someone calling his name. 
“Luke!” 
His head snapped up, turning to find that most of the boys had already left. There were a few stranglers, still packing up their stuff with no real rush. But it was Nico who had called his name.
“Uh, yeah?” 
“You free to talk?” Nico asked, a kind smile on his face like the other boys on the team had always said. It was hard to feel anything but welcomed by the Swiss. “After you’ve changed.” 
“Oh,” Luke glanced down at his phone, seeing a notification that you had replied but quickly shoved his phone down on his bag. “Like, right now? Because I kinda had some plans—”
“It will be quick,” the older man assured him.
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat and smiled a little. “Yeah, I’m free.”
Luke moved pretty quickly after that, ignoring his phone as he quickly changed back into the sweatpants and hoodie he had thrown on this morning when Jack had banged on his door at some ungodly, early hour. He shoved most of his things into his bag, trying to act like he felt completely normal and stress-free about a one-on-one conversation with his captain.
He tried to act nonchalant as they made their way to the lounge area where some players crash before or after a practice. Fridges and shelves were stocked with a variety of trainer-approved snacks and protein shakes, it was probably one of Luke’s favourite rooms recently. But now he felt too on edge to even grab one of the lemon muffins he loved. 
“Calm down, you aren’t in trouble,” Nico eventually spoke up, settling down on the couch as he looked at Luke expectantly. “I just wanted to talk.”
Luke cleared his throat, settling down on the couch too. “Yeah, so you’ve said.”
Nico’s lips twitched. “How are you finding Jersey?”
“It’s good,” Luke nodded.
Nico raised his brows. “Just good?”
Luke blinked. “...really good?”
“Hm,” Nico hummed, but he sounded amused. “Usually I have trouble shutting Jack up, you’re like the opposite.” 
Luke laughed a little. “Jack was always the yapper.” 
“He’s kinda what I wanted to talk to you about,” Nico added, almost far too casually. He briefly wondered if his captain was waiting for an in to whatever the real reason behind this conversation was. 
“Yeah?” 
“You know I’m your captain too, right?” Nico asked, and this time he sounded a lot more serious than he did thirty seconds ago. It was how he sounded on the ice, how he sounded on the bench during playoffs last year. He hadn’t seen much of this side of Nico, but he recognised it well.
Luke frowned. “Is this a trick question?”
“No, I—” Nico paused, shaking his head. “I just want you to know that I see you as one of my boys. Not just Jack’s little brother. When I played with my brother, I know sometimes it feels like you’re just…there. In his shadow, sometimes. I just don’t want you to feel like that here.”
Luke relaxed a little. “I don’t—”
“But you’d tell me if you ever did, yeah? I’m your captain too. I want you to know I’m there if you need me, as a captain or a friend.” Nico had a sincere but serious expression on his face, and a small part of it reminded him of Quinn. That warmth and comfort that came from someone a little older, a little more sure of themselves—a true captain.
“I know,” he promised the older boy with a nod. 
“Good,” Nico said before his face broke out into a smile. “Do you need a lift home? I told Jack he could go and I could drive you back—”
“No!” Luke blurted out before blinking, seeing Nico’s slightly surprised face at his outburst. “I, uh, meant that I didn’t need a lift. I was just going to get an Uber.”
Nico’s brows furrowed together. “There’s no need, I can drive you back. I know where—”
“No, I just,” he paused, feeling his cheeks heat up in response. “I’m heading to a friend’s house. Not going home. So.”
“I see,” Nico murmured, and there was something shining in his eyes that Luke didn’t fully understand. He wasn’t sure he wanted to understand. “I can drive you to your…friend’s house, if you want.”
And let you watch him get dropped off by his captain? Yeah, he would rather not.
“I’m fine with an Uber, but thanks,” Luke said with a slightly strained smile, only hoping he didn’t look as guilty as he felt. He didn’t even know why his whole body felt on edge, he knew he was doing nothing wrong. 
But something about the way Nico was staring made him feel like he could see right through him, through everything. 
He was almost convinced his captain knew exactly where he was going and why, and that was something Luke didn’t want to think about.
“Back off!”
“But I’m hungry!”
“There’s gonna be nothing left if you keep eating everything.”
“But it’s taking so long.”
Luke shot you an exasperated look, though he didn’t bother to hide his smile as you slumped against the counter beside him. “It’s only been forty minutes.”
“I was hungry before you got here,” you defended with a huff.
“And you’ve practically eaten all the cheese I was gonna use,” he retorted. 
You crossed your arms over your chest. He tried to ignore how endearing he found the act. 
“C’mon, give me five more minutes and your food will be done,” Luke tried again, and he managed to finally crack a small smile from you.
“This better be worth it, Hughes. This is my first meal of the day.”
“I—” Luke frowned a little. “Yeah, we’ll dive into that later.”
You raised your brows, something like amusement painted across your face. “Worried about me, Hughes?”
“At the fact it’s one o’clock and you haven’t eaten a single thing?” Luke pointed out. “Yeah, actually, I am. And I think that is a justified reason.”
You waved him off. “I had coffee.”
His lips parted. “That’s not—”
“Cook for me, Hughes,” you interrupted, a grin stretched across your face as you playfully slapped his ass. “You said you would prove yourself.” 
Luke’s cheeks flushed. “You’re bossy.”
“And you like it.”
He didn’t disagree.
��
“Stop looking so smug.” 
Luke glanced over at you. “I never said anything.”
“But you have a smug smile on your face.” 
“I don’t.” He definitely did. “But I am waiting for you to admit I was right.” 
“Fine. You’re a good cook or whatever.” 
Luke beamed in response. 
He was never an overly confident or arrogant guy, not even on the ice. He knew when he played well, he knew when he made people eat their doubts that the youngest Hughes brother wasn’t as good as the other two. He was never the kind to go fishing for compliments or praise either.
But there was something admittedly satisfying when he got to see that expression on someone’s face, the one they got when he proved them wrong. 
Whether it was something as big as proving his high school coach that he was good enough to make it into one of the best college’s hockey team, or as small as proving to you he was a damn good cook, and he made a damn good steak sub.
He didn’t like asking for compliments, but it was nice to receive them. To have that reassurance. To know that maybe he wasn’t as hopeless as he sometimes felt in his own body.
You raised your brows. “What? No cocky follow up?”
Luke shrugged, leaning back into the plush cushions of your couch. The plates and the rest of the dirty dishes had been shoved in the dishwasher, some random old sitcom was playing on the tv and the two of you were sprawled on your couch with your feet on his lap. Not that he was complaining.
It was sweet. Relaxing. Domestic. 
Almost like you two were just friends hanging out.
“Not really my thing,” Luke admitted. “You said I was right. That’s enough.” 
You tilted your head in interest. “That’s enough?” 
He missed the heat in your words, the shift in tone in your voice. His eyes were aimlessly focused on the tv, trying to work out what was going on after he zoned out for a few moments. He missed the way your eyes dragged over his body, lingering on the way his shirt stretched over his shoulders and clung onto his arms. 
“Yeah,” he nodded absentmindedly. “Jack is the one who would—oh.”
You grinned at the way he fell silent, as he blinked in surprise at the way you planted yourself in his lap. 
“I—” Luke cleared his throat, no further words coming out as you placed your hands on his chest. 
“Just wanted to say thank you,” you told him, your eyes following the way you ran your hands over the expanse of his chest, the way his heart thundered under your touch before your fingers traced along his neck. “For cooking for me.”
“Right,” Luke said, swallowing a little. 
“Can I say thank you, Luke?”
He nodded.
“Words, baby.”
“Yes,” he rasped, his wide eyes staring up at you. “Please.”
“So polite,” you teased before you leaned down, your fingers fisting the material of his shirt in your hands as you pressed your lips together. 
It took Luke a few seconds before he eased into the kiss, into letting you take control as your tongue swiped over his bottom lip. He sunk further into the couch, his hands hesitating a few moments before they rested comfortably on your waist, just like they always did.
And you waited. 
You waited for them to move as you deepened the kiss, as your tongue explored his mouth. You waited as your hands ran up and down his chest, feeling the way his body shivered under your touch, at the way your nails lightly raked down his stomach. You waited as you felt his hands squeeze your waist, like he was finally giving in.
But his hands remained where they were.
“Luke,” you murmured, a little breathlessly between kisses. “Move.”
He paused, pulling back as he looked up at you with a confused expression. “What? Like, from the couch?” 
You couldn’t help yourself as you snorted. “No, I meant your hands.”
“My hands?” He repeated dumbly.
Your smile softened a little as you reached for his hands, squeezing his wrists tightly. “Your hands are your friends,” you told him, biting back your laugh when you noticed his confusion grow. “There’s more to making out with a girl than kissing her.”
“Right,” he cleared his throat a little. “I knew that.”
“You like it when I touch you, right?” 
He nodded.
“So, do the same,” you told him, squeezing his wrists again. 
Luke blinked, swallowing hard. “I—”
He quickly closed his mouth, his cheeks flushing as a familiar feeling of embarrassment washed over him. He looked a bit hopeless, and it tugged on your heart strings a little to see him so hesitant.
“You can ask me anything, Luke,” you reminded him, your tone soft and void of anything remotely mocking like he almost expected. “I won’t judge.”
His eyes flickered back to your face. “Where…do I touch you?”
You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “You want me to show you where I liked to be touched, baby?”
He nodded, his face flushing a deeper shade of red.
You never tore your eyes away from his face as you placed your hands over his, trying not to focus on how much bigger they felt than your own. You watched the way his brows furrowed, like he was trying to concentrate as you guided his hands along your waist until they dipped down to cup your ass.
He swallowed. “Is this okay?” 
“So okay,” you told him before you leaned down to kiss him again. His hands remained still on your ass and it made you smile against his lips as you prompted him, as you let his hands experimentally squeeze your ass. “Girls like this.”
“O-Okay,” he breathed out.
“Feels nice when you wanna take a bit more control,” you told him, lightly nipping his bottom lip as he let out a choked noise of surprise. “Control the pace.” 
“Mhm,” he hummed, his eyes fluttering shut as you began to guide his hands over your body again. 
“Sometimes a girl just wants a little more when you’re making out,” you continued to whisper between kisses, taking his hands to the hem of your shirt. You felt him freeze a little beneath you as you guided him under the material of your shirt and softly squeezed his hands in reassurance. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.” 
“Just wanna make you feel good too,” Luke murmured, a little bashful in his admission as his fingers skimmed over the skin of your stomach.
Something inside you twisted, in a good way. 
“You’re making me feel good, Luke,” you told him, your lips grazing his as you spoke, as you continued to move his hands further up your body. “Just doing exactly what I tell you. Such a good boy, such a fast learner.”
“Shit,” he breathed out as you rested his hands over your tits. He paused for a moment before giving them an experimental squeeze, finding the smile you gave him in response much more rewarding than anything else. 
“That’s it, baby, just gotta be a little more confident,” you murmured before you dipped your head down, finally pressing your lips against his again. 
And yeah, it was a little awkward at first when you dropped your hands from his. You were kissing him, your tongue swiping against his and his hands were just lingering on your tits like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.
But then you rolled your hips against his, snapping him out of whatever brain fog he was lost in and he decided to just let himself sink into it. To just let his instincts take over. To trust the fact you would help him if he was doing something wrong.
And, fuck, Luke thought he might have to listen to his instincts more often if these were the results he got.
One of his hands slipped back down to your waist, to keep you on his lap as the other squeezed your tit over the fabric of your bra. You keened under the touch, almost panting against his lips between kisses as you gripped his shoulders. And then his other hand moved lower, moved to cup your ass and squeeze until he was helping you rock against him. 
Your nails dug into his skin, but the pain was dull and desirable. It showed him that you were enjoying this, that you were enjoying the way he pawed at your tits and squeezed your ass. It showed him that maybe he did just need some confidence, to just trust that sometimes he would just instinctively know what to do.
His head dipped a little as your pants became heavier and the kiss was harder to continue. He tucked his face into the crook of your neck, experimentally mouthing along your skin until he found a spot at the base of your neck that made you shiver under his touch. 
He slowly ran his tongue along the spot, smiling a little when your fingers moved to grip his curls and tug a little. His teeth grazed the spot, a small voice in the back of his head wanting nothing more than for him to wrap his lips around the spot and suck until—
RING! RING! RING!
Both of you jumped at the shrill of the phone echoing through the room, both of his hands dropping to your waist to hold you tightly before you fell on your ass. His eyes snapped over to where his phone sat on the coffee table and groaned when he realised who was calling him. 
“For fuck’s sake,” Luke grumbled, eyes narrowed on his phone as he watched Jack’s call ring on until it stopped.
“For someone who was desperate to get you laid, he sure knows how to ruin a moment,” you commented, though your voice was amused and lighthearted. 
“I told him I’d be back later,” Luke huffed out. “I don’t know why—”
He was cut off by his phone buzzing again. And then again. And then again. He sighed deeply as he reached over, not moving you off his lap—and you made no move to slide off either, so he wasn’t complaining. He swiped, unlocking his phone as his brother’s messages came through.
jack attack: yo how did the thing with nico go? 
jack attack: also idc what you said, we are having a birthday party for you and the boys agreed
jack attack: bring your lady friend ;)
Luke groaned a little, rolling his eyes and locking his phone instead of replying. 
“Not a fan of parties?” 
“Not a fan of Jack’s parties—especially ones that are three weeks after my actual birthday,” Luke corrected, his lips twitching downwards as his hands rested casually on your waist. “He tends to be a little…”
“Much?” You supplied. 
“Yeah,” Luke snorted. “He also said he wanted me to invite you.”
You raised your brows. “Do you want me there?”
He raised his brows in response. “Do you want to come?”
“I’ll never say no to a party,” you said with a smile that was anything but innocent, leaning down until your lips were brushing his. “Plus, it’s your birthday. I think you deserve a little treat.” 
Luke gulped a little. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you grinned before kissing him, whilst his whole body flushed at the implications of your words. 
jack attack: i know you read my texts
jack attack: stop fucking and reply, asshole!!
.
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lovelybrooke · 5 months
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Third-years reactions to reader wanting to leave
Sorry this took forever, I've been relaxing with my family, but it's here now, so enjoy. Also, tell me if you want a separate post for the staff, I'm willing to do one.
First years---second years.
Trey
Trey figures out you're thinking about leaving when Riddle comes to him in tears. It was the first time since his overblot that he saw him so distraught. He honestly didn't know what to think, since he was too busy trying to comfort his friend. When he finally got time alone, he was truly just confused. Why would you want to leave? He knows you've always wanted to go home, and that you've been working on it for a long time, but does that really mean you have to leave? You have a good life here, friends, people who care about you. Leaving doesn't really seem like the right option. He's not as erratic as some of the others, but he definitely goes through some emotions. Mostly confusion, then anger, then understanding. He gets why you want to leave, this world hasn't been that kind to you. But that doesn't' mean he's just going to except it without at least trying to get you to change your mind.
And that's what he does. He explains how leaving could lead to a lot of problems. What if something bad happens when you attempt to leave, like another overblot or Grim goes nuts. Who will be here to keep all these rowdy boys in line? He tries so hard to convince you it's a stupid decision, without making It sounds like he thinks you're stupid. He's a great manipulator, and doesn't exactly feel bad when he has to do so. You need to stay,
Cater
Cater figures it out from simply watching Trey. It was easily figure out something was up when Trey seemed out of it, messing up recipes and not behaving like his usual composed Trey self. Honestly, he should've figured it out sooner, with the supposed "sickness" his housewarden came down with not too long ago. It didn't take a genius to figure out what everyone was so hung up on. You wanted to leave, what's the big deal. Wasn't that your whole goal the entire time? Why is everyone so surprised.
Cater puts up an uncaring front, acting the same around you. He even supports you on your adventures in the future when you eventually leave. However, behind closed doors, he's an absolute reck. Crying as he scrolls through photo after photo of you, some with the both of you, and some that you definitely weren't away he'd taken. He'd can't believe you want to leave, after everything that's happened you'd just abandon them. Abandon him. His anger quickly melts into determination. He's just not good enough yet, that's it. That's fine, he can fix it, he'll make everything perfect for you. He gets Heartslabyul back into shape, mainly their housewarden, and demands perfection. He'll get everything back to the way it was before, and then you won't even think about leaving.
Leona
Leona learns about your plan from Jack. Like a good first year he tells him right away. Leon honestly doesn't care, not because he wants you to leave, the exact opposite really. He just knows there's no way in hell that you're leaving. You've managed to enamor some of the most powerful people imaginable, and you think you'll just be able to leave? That's funny, but no.
He doesn't understand what Jack and Ruggie are so worked up about. So what if there's some stupid mirror, there's no proof it works. Even if it does work, one of them will just find a way to get you back, no big deal.
He huffs and complains when Ruggie demands he talk to you, believing he can talk some sense into you. He shows up at your dorm with an uncaring expression, talking to you blankly. He tells you that there's no chance you can leave, and you should get it out of your little head. He yawns, and lays his large body on your couch, before threatening to break that mirror if you do forget about it. He falls asleep right after, like he didn't just scar you.
Rook
Rook likes to keep an eye on you, party because Vill asks him too, and party because he wants to. Because of this, he finds out fairly quickly, but waits to do anything about it until he's sure it's true. Then, he tells Vil so that an actual plan can be made. Though, he's never that worried. He has faith that his wonderful housewarden will be able to convince you to remain in this world. Even as Vil and Epel are panicking, he's calm and composed the entire time.
There is a part of him though, a small, small part of him, that wonders what life would be like without you. His mind is blank when he tries to do so, however. You've brought so much beauty into his world, without you it would just be cold and grey. He's reminded of this beauty whenever he watches you, you're so brave and compassionate. He's drawn to you in a way he cannot explain, there are never enough words to do so in one sitting. So, instead, he sends you poem after poem, all in different spots each day. He just wants to remind you that people care about you. Though, as time goes on, and the year gets closer to ending, the poems become more and more sinister and creepy. They're filled with dark reminders of what everyone would do to keep you here, with them. The once sweet and loving lines are replaced to be dark and obsessive.
You wonder what Rook truly feels, if the flowery words you came to enjoy were just a front for the deep and obsessed loved he truly felt.
Knowing him you'd never really know.
Vil
Vil learns from Rook, and he can't believe it. You? Leaving? That can be right? Though, Rook came to him with enough evidence for it to be possible. For a second he considers breaking down right there. If you leave, what would everything he'd done be for? He's worked so hard to become someone you'd love, and you're just going to leave him. He doesn't though, he remains calm and poised, and quickly comes up with a plan with Rook. He knows something must be done about this, especially before others find out.
Whenever Vil is done however, he's a mess. He's in shambles, wondering what he could've done better. Maybe if he was prettier, kinder, smarter, just...more, you wouldn't want to leave. He runs through his mind, wondering what he could do to make you stay. In the end, he decides it's best to talk with you, over the phone however, you can't see him like this. He pleads with you to stay, to reconsider. If you're worried about where to stay during the summer, he's sure his father wouldn't mind you staying with them. Do you not feel happy here? What can he do better, please just tell him so he can fix this, so things can go back to normal, please?
Idia
Idia learns from his brother, who's distraught. Honestly, he should've expected this. He knew this great thing would never last, someone who was kind to him and treated him like a person rather than a bother. He knew you'd get bored and leave. It doesn't make it any less disappointing when you do though. He sits in his room and doesn't leave, which isn't that strange for Idia. What is strange is him being so motivated to keep you here. He hacks into any devices that you have, seeing who you're talking to incase someone convinced you to leave. He also watches you through these devices, making sure you don't actually do anything you might regret.
He almost feels bad, snooping through your stuff like this. Emphasis on almost, however, since this isn't the first time he's done so. It's like he's numb to invading your privacy. He justifies it by believing that he's doing good, he's preventing you from leaving them, from ruining everything everyone has worked for. So what if he's snooping through your phone and reporting back anything suspicious to the others, it's your fault for wanting to leave them so badly. Even with all the mental gymnastics he does, he never once tries to contact you, too afraid of what you might say or do. He doesn't want to loose your friendship, and he can't stand you being mad at him. He's content with watching you from a distance, regardless of how creepy it is.
Lilia
Lilia's known. From the moment the thought was put into your small human head he's known you were planning on leaving. Honestly, he doesn't blame you, the children around this school are anything but subtle. If it wasn't for the lack of resources, you'd would've left this place sooner. But no, you're still here, and you've wormed your way into the hearts of these precious students, and now you have to face the consequences. He doesn't see a point in contacting you or trying to get you to change your mind. He knows that you're serious about it from the befuddled reactions from the students. In fact, he spends most of his time trying to comfort Malleus, since Sebek just had to go and tell him.
"Oh don't worry Malleus, they're not gonna leave." He coons to the poor dragon and he wallows. In truth, he fears for you, for Malleus's reaction. He knows it's only a matter of time before his sadness becomes rage, and at that point Lilia isn't sure he can help.
Lilia doesn't want you to leave. In fact, if you were just a bit smaller he's sure he would've picked you up and never let you go. You're just adorable, thinking you can leave them. And even if you do, there's always a possibility that they'll just find a way to you.
Malleus
In rained the day the news was brought to Malleus from Sebek. Well, rain was really and understatement, it was more like a thunderstorm, rattling all the windows in the school, threatening them to break. It was no secret that the Diasomnia housewarden was enamored with you, he never cared to hide it. So when rain and wind came crashing down, no one spoke a word about it, too afraid of what might happen to them.
Malleus can't possibly wonder why'd you want to leave, they've spoiled you to no end, provided you a home and care, practically worshipped you. He's personally made sure that you were treated the best, because you were the best, at least in his eyes. So what if you were just some magic-less human, you were his magic-less human, and that's all that mattered.
Malleus spends the beginning wallowing in his own pity, too depressed to leave his bed. He's afraid to face you, party because he doesn't know what he'd do when he'd finally see you again. He spends his time being comforted by Lilia, who tries to convince him that you leaving is impossible, which Malleus never believes.
Finally, when the skies clear and people can finally go outside again, do they see Mallues walking the Halls of Night Raven. He's composed, standing tall and regal. When he arrives at your dorm, seeing you for the first time in days, he doesn't belittle you or loose control. Instead, he offers you a smile, before taking your hand as you fall into a deep slumber.
There, he erases any silly little thought about leaving. You'd awake like nothing happened, smiling and happy, ready to see the friends that cared so much about you. You'll never know about the mirror missing from your room, or the chaos you caused because of an offhanded comment made at lunch. All you'll know is you had a silly little dream that felt way, way too real.
---
A/n: I hoped you enjoyed, sorry for taking so long.
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leverage-ot3 · 2 months
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okay I absolutely get and adore harry being oblivious about ot3 developments, but consider:
after breanna makes it explicitly clear she’s queer in the card game job, harry starts Researching™
he’s trying to be good, be better. he likes this girl and wants to be there to support her and be her friend, someone she can trust. it doesn’t help that she’s around the same age as his daughter, who barely wants to associate with him anymore
he learns breanna is queer and dives into researching. watching TED talks in his spare time. reading ebooks on his phone in between playing roles in a con (bringing a physical book is less convenient and he doesn’t want to wave around the fact that he’s researching like he’s trying to be performative about it). he reads about legislation and book bans and wonders about how they could work their magic through a con to fix those things. he reads about asexuality and recognizes the flag colors from the sticker on breanna’s laptop, which he files away for later
he learns a lot! he has been peripherally aware of queer stuff- it’s kind of hard not to be in the 2020s, but now he is much more informed on a lot of issues. he has memorized at least 50 different labels and terms and has an index of resources in his head (and on his phone) if anyone might need them. he wants to understand the people he loves and cares about, whether it’s breanna or one of his daughter’s friends, or anyone in his life that is queer and he doesn’t know it yet. he wants to be ready and prepared to support them!
he learns about sapphicness and bisexuality and intersex rights and the gender spectrum. he learns about karyotypes and stonewall and other queer history. he learns about kink (blushing, but still reads because it’s important!) and relationship diversity… which leads him to discover the term polyamory
he tries not to actively apply the terms he has learned on the people in his life because he knows it’s wrong to assume things about other people. BUT. harry spends a few days reflecting on parker, hardison and eliot’s interactions and wonders. he thinks about the long hugs and lack of personal space and near telepathic communication not just between parker and hardison, but parker and eliot AND hardison and eliot. how parker knows how to make eliot take care of himself, how he knows when she forgets to eat because she’s so hyperfixated on planning a con. how parker jumps on his back for fun and no matter what, he always catches her. hardison’s absence is felt when he’s gone, deeply by the both of them.
it could just be a deep friendship, he knows. they have been working and living together for over a decade, of course they would be close!!! maybe they could even be queerplatonic! (another new word he learned!)
but. still. he quietly observes, watches closely, and thinks.
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essaytime · 3 months
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A lot of productions (or production ideas) for Romeo and Juliet come up with elaborate aesthetics for both of the feuding families, and there is definitely a charm as well as a large degree of blessed creativity to this, but honestly, the more I think about the play, the more I feel the most resounding choice with me, given the play's meaning, would be to make the Montagues and the Capulets' costumes very, very similar. Almost identical - the same silhouettes, materials, everything. Have the only thing signalling which family it is be a ribbon or band tied around the arm, a particular embellishment at the collar of a dress or shirt, maybe some item of clothing that's easy to take off, like a vest or small cape, or a scarf. Maybe aside from the Lords and Ladies of both surnames, they could wear something that's entirely in their family's chosen colours/symbols, but the rest of the family and their supporters? Just these details. Because that's really one of the things that hit so hard in the text: there is literally no reason for the feud. There's no logically existing divide. We have two influential families of equal standing, who live by the same customs, whose children probably have the same education, who employ people with the same mindset and themselves presumably have the same mindset. They could very well live beside each other, they could very well switch places and be each other. These poor teenagers in Romeo and Juliet are forced to live in a world shaped by something that just doesn't exist. And they're mistreated, and they struggle, and they die - at more or less fourteen or fifteen! - for something that doesn't exist. Because at this point there is no reason to go on with this conflict, if there even was one in the first place, which I doubt. I think there is a lot of sense in the fact that we never learn why the Capulets despise the Montagues and vice versa. I wouldn't be surprised if during the time of the play there was just no one that could remember it. But still, this conflict, this absolutely empty, pointless, senseless conflict, wrecks the community of Verona, pitting citizens against each other and leading to innocent kids dying. And I think if I were directing the play, that's the thing I would emphasise: that they are really the same. Have Lord Montague make a similar scream, speak in a similar tone mourning his son as Lord Capulet did mourning his daughter. Have the servants at the beginning of the play use exactly the same gestures and mannerisms. Have the dear uninvited party-sneakers get along with Capulet youth at the ball and genuinely have fun together. And have the citizens at the end be all the same in their surprise and grief, virtually indistinguishable save for this ribbon or embellishment they can just rip off of their costume, becoming one whole crowd. All of these people could pass each other, say hello, gossip on the street with no problem - if it weren't for these details that somehow make them part of two different entities. For there is no border between the Capulets and the Montagues other than the artificial one they try to create themselves. And people die for it.
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beggars-opera · 6 months
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Hey, so we don't talk enough about A Christmas Carol as being at least a little bit about not continuing a cycle of abuse and neglect, both against others and yourself.
In the book little Scrooge is left languishing over the holidays in a boarding school for some never-explained reason, but it is made very clear that this is miserable and unfair, and that his father is doing this on purpose. His sister specifically comes to tell him that "father is so much kinder now than he used to be, that home's like heaven." This also reflects a bit of Dickens's own childhood when his father went into debtor's prison and little Charlie was forced to support his family working full time in a shoe-blacking factory at the age of 12 (which is also why so many of his books seem to have a moral of "hey, kids are people too and maybe we shouldn't make them work in the mines.")
Whatever family reunion happened after didn't work out, because Scrooge continues believing that no one is coming to save him and pulling himself up by his bootstraps at the detriment of all other social relationships is the only way forward. And the more he lives by that philosophy, the more miserable he gets, because obviously he pushes away anyone who has that hope that he lost. They threaten to break down the walls he's built and teach him that a big pile of money doesn't have to be the only thing that he can rely on, if he'd just let himself be vulnerable and have a relationship with people who care about him, because they're out there even if he's ignoring them.
There is a certain type of person still very much out there who thinks this way. "I've never been happy in my life, so no one else has a right to be either. I was abused in my childhood so it's only fair that everyone else suffer as well." We see this in parents who still try to use corporal punishment, and in wealthy people who ignore the social factors keeping others down and scream that everyone else is just entitled, that only those who suffer and scrape deserve happiness. And they especially hate the people like Fred who represent the past that could have been, who have maintained hope for the future, and seem to be rubbing their optimism in your face, when in reality they're just maintaining hope because it's the only way you can survive.
It's so important for Scrooge to actually see the impact this thinking has on both himself and multiple generations. Rich people have this weird hangup about this story because they think Scrooge is bad because he's rich. He's not, he's bad because he's a horrible person and a miser - he doesn't use his money to better anything, including himself. Salting the earth, everyone suffers here, including him. And he learns that he's going to die old and alone without ever having spent or enjoyed his money, and that his family feels sorry for him, and that the nameless masses of poor people out there that he decries so much are in fact living, breathing people, including tiny disabled kids who don't deserve to suffer just because you decided life isn't fair.
In the end he takes responsibility for actually uplifting the people in the next generation who are trying to make the world a better place and no longer punching down, because it doesn't have to be this way. So many people out there just give up hope because things are hard and they think trying to improve things is a pointless exercise that makes them look dumb. How dare you grow a year older and not an hour richer! How dare you marry for love! That's the only thing more ridiculous than a Merry Christmas! When in reality, there are plenty of people who would love to see them happy if they just had a chance.
It's really sad that, while the language used to describe it has changed, these problems still persist. That people feel so wronged and isolated that they spend their days ensuring everyone else will be as well. That they fail to see their fellow humans as fellow humans who are just as deserving of love and kindness and a roof over their heads. I don't care what time of year it is, we should all be lifting each other up rather than tearing each other down.
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Maegor Targaryen x reader
It was not your choice or decision to marry Maegor the cruel. In fact you had already given your heart to another. A son of a lord. But in the seven kingdom everything is about power. Maegor needed the strength and support of your house, and your father wanted the cruel king to marry one of his daughters.
You along with your sisters were presented before the king. Your sisters dressed to attract the king, to get his attention and to tempt him. You, however, choose to dress modestly, thinking Maegor would not even look at you. Praying that he picks one of your sisters so that your path is clear to marry the man you love.
However, Maegor's eyes only remained on you. The girl who is clearly trying to not catch his attention. The girl who is longing to marry someone else. No matter how much your sisters tried they didn't manage to catch the King's eyes.
There was no way your father was going to oppose the marriage, not when he tried so hard to have his blood and name associated with the Targaryen.
Everything was happening fast. The man you love disappeared, probably killed or ran away to save himself from the cruel king. You had to move into the palace. The wedding preparations were happening. Your father started treating you as if you are the most precious and delicate jewel. Your sisters were taking every chance they got to insult you and express their jealousy. And then there is Maegor, your husband to be.
Maegor is pretty sure you have captured his heart. Whenever he can he would insist you join him for dinner or lunch. Just you two. He wants to know you better but you remain cold. He couldn't help but chuckle or smile in amusement whenever he sees you in your modest clothes, while your sisters and his other wives try to show as much skin as possible to gain his attention.
Most of his wives were jealous and felt threatened, while the rest felt relieved that Maegor's cruel eyes are not on them.
In a matter of short time you have witnessed Maegor's cruelty several times, not towards you but to those who tried to defy him or betray him. You even saw him cut a man in half right in the court room. You were scared. You were shaking.
And then came the wedding. Your father made you wear your house sigil on the wedding dress, embroidered in gold to show everyone how powerful his house is. He gave your hand to Maegor who then put his heavy Targaryen cloak on you. Throughout the ceremony your heart was beating like crazy.
Maegor had his arm around you throughout the feast. He could sense your anxiousness. Everyone showering you with gifts, gold, jewels, but none of them mattered, not when you felt like you are getting trapped in a cage with a cruel dragon.
For the bedding ceremony everyone was certain Maegor would do his absolute worst, just like he did to his other wives. Nobody cared though. And your family certainly didn't care. Your father told, no, ordered you to do your best to satisfy the beast of man. Your sisters eagerly waiting for you to get your "punishment" for taking the king away from them. Maegor however surprised everyone. Usually he prefers breaking the will of his wives and taming them, but not with you. He ordered everyone to leave, taking you by surprise. No one had the courage to say a word against it.
Maegor held you close, your back pressed against his chest as he felt you up, whispering how he can't wait to claim you. You want to push him away but you can't, and also your body has started to betray you. Maegor knows it. He soon learned how your body likes to be touched. You almost stopped breathing when he took off your dress. Normally he would have ripped it, but not this time. You both remembered all the you covered yourself completely hoping Maegor would not choose you, but here you are now, naked and soon to be claimed by him.
Tears rolled down your face when Maegor slowly claimed you. You felt like you were getting ripped and torn. You wanted to scream but only soft moans left your lips. Maegor pinning you down to the bed and kissing you while he thrust in and out of you. He looked so proud when you reached your climax, showing you, telling you how it was just the beginning.
The next morning you woke up feeling sore and exhausted. Maegor was not there but he did order the maid to take good care of you before he left. You were barely out of the bed when your father barged in with a maester. He was really happy to see the blood on the bedsheet, the proof that the bedding ceremony was a success and Maegor has claimed you.
For a moment you thought your father brought the maester to check if you were okay after what happened the previous night. But you were wrong. The maester was there to check if Maegor has properly "claimed" you and see if everything with you is okay to survive a pregnancy, to give Maegor the heir he so desperately wants and to ensure your father's blood gets to sit on the iron throne.
It's the first time in your life you have said "no" to your father. You refuse to go through that humiliation. At first your father was in disbelief, tried to laugh it off and ordered you to lay on the bed for the maester. Something inside you snapped. You called the guards standing outside the door and ordered them to take away your father and lock him in his room, and throw the maester in a cell. The guards obeyed you without any questions. The first time in your life you stood up for yourself. You felt the weight on your shoulders slightly lifting.
The news instantly reached Maegor. He was surprised and proud, but also angry. Your father had no right over you after your wedding, and what he did or was about to do not only insults you but also insults the king.
Maegor didn't visit you that night, in fact you didn't see him the entire day. But the next morning he asked you to go for a walk with him. You were surprised when he took you to his dragon, Balerion. Your first time seeing a dragon so close. Maegor grabbed your hand and took you closer, telling you the black dread won't hurt you. And he was right. The dragon didn't show any sign of anger or annoyance when Maegor put your hand on him. Even Maegor was surprised. You were amazed how something so big and scary was just resting so peacefully. But the dragon soon sat up when the guards dragged the maester to him.
Maegor holding you close, telling you he will protect you and punish anyone who hurt you in any way. The maester begged for his life but couldn't even finish two sentences before Balerion set him on fire.
You knew exactly what was coming next. Your family. The cruel look in Maegor's eyes told you he had something planned for your father and the rest of the family as well. You can't beg. You won't beg. But you can't just let them die.
That night Maegor visited you. You hate to admit how your body betrays you every time he touches you.
Once Maegor was asleep right next to you you pulled out a dagger from under your pillow. Your heart beating fast as you saddled him carefully pressed the dagger against his throat. You have never taken a life. You have never even killed a life. But you were certain that killing Maegor would spare hundreds of innocent lives.
You almost gathered up all your courage to slit his throat, about to apply pressure when Maegor gave you a small crooked smile which turned into an evil one when he opened his eyes. "Do it. Kill me," He smiled at you. He grabbed your hand and applied pressure against his neck, causing the dagger to slightly cut the skin. "If you don't kill me now then I will never let you go. I will claim you every night. And I will kill anyone who dares to even look at you in the wrong way."
You were at a loss for words. You don't want your family to die but also you can't kill Maegor.
He felt your grip on the dagger loosen. He quickly flipped you, and now you are the one pinned on the beg and he was on top of you. He snatched the dagger and pressed it against your neck and his other hand pinning both your arms above your head.
He let out a soft but cruel laugh before kissing you. You don't know why but you kissed him back. Maybe you were lying to yourself. Maybe you can see yourself being his wife. Maybe you could see yourself loving this cruel dragon one day.
Maegor never felt so satisfied before then he did when he fucked you with the dagger pressed against your neck. He knew you were the one for him when you cum while he teased you with the dagger. He knew behind all your modesty and innocence there was a part who craved the mad dragon.
Maegor was there when you woke up the next morning. You felt his arm wrap around you and pull you closer to him. Both of you naked, your back pressed against his chest. He put the dagger in your hand, taking you by surprise. After last night you were certain he would remove everything from your reach which you could use as a weapon.
"One day you will decide to punish your family for all their crimes against you, and that day you will need this," Maegor kissed you as he made you hold the dagger. "And I won't stop you...my queen"
Part 2? Idk
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kyriethesquishysquid · 7 months
Text
Heard Through the Grapevine (König/Fem!Reader)
Summary: There were always crazy rumors whirling around military bases and KorTac was no different. König, in particular, was often the victim of the most vicious rumors. Despite knowing her opinion is unpopular, the lovely reader refuses to partake in spreading the lies and often stands up against them instead, all while trying to battle her growing feelings for the quiet colonel. 
Word count: ~9K
A/N: Some use of Y/N. Reader’s description is left rather vague but there are details of her being short, chubby, and with hair long enough to pull back. Reader is aged between her mid-twenties to mid-thirties. While König has no exact canon age, in this fic he will be somewhere around 40 (an age range I’ve seen people come to match with his ranking as colonel). König has anxiety, reader has anxiety, we ALL have anxiety. Slightly possible medical inaccuracies- While I am a nurse, I am not an AP or Emergency Room nurse so I’ve never done stitches myself. I’m using my basic medical knowledge, what I’ve learned in classes, and Google. So please forgive any inaccuracies! As always, I've never played COD. No beta we die like Graves.
TW: Porn with minor plot. Romance and smut. Slight age gap (reader is somewhere around 5-15 years younger than König). Size kink, mild innocence kink(?) dom/sub themes, M!dom/F!sub, major power play, praise-degradation, accent/language kink, voice kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, and loottss of pet names (I’m a whore for pet names) in both German and English. Mentions of violence. Talk of blood, wounds, and stitching in a medical setting. 
Simple Translations (Longer translations will be included next to their sentences!):
Scheiße - Shit
Kleines - Little one
Kätzchen - Kitten
Schätzchen - Sweetheart
Liebling - Darling/Love
“You can’t say he doesn’t terrify you!” 
Your friend’s words scoffed through a mouth full of pizza made you grimace for multiple reasons, a shrug of your shoulders being your only answer as you dug back into your mashed potatoes. 
“Seriously, Y/N?” Mark pressed harder with obvious disbelief. 
“What?” you retorted sharply, “Is it so hard to believe I’m not scared of the colonel just because he’s a big guy?” 
 “Then what’s with the way you look at him?” your best friend, Lisa, added, unable to hide the coy smirk growing.
A heavy sigh left your lungs and you dropped your spoon onto your plate, directing a deadpan look at the both of them as you realized they were not going to drop the subject. 
Damn her and her mischievous nature. She was the only one who knew even a little about your hidden feelings for König, having been spilled one late night under the stars after far too many drinks, and she hadn’t stopped giving you shit for it since. Thankfully, she was a good friend and didn’t air out your personal laundry to anybody; not even your other mutual friends. However, that didn’t stop her from teasing you at every turn possible. Like now. The whole topic was a stupid subject in your eyes, brought on by the recent rumors about König having decapitated a new recruit for looking at him wrong. Ridiculous, unbelievable, and yet people wouldn’t let it go. It made you feel a kinship for the big man. Though for different reasons, you’d been the subject of many rumors over your life, having been picked on and subjected to bullshit drama simply because of your weight. Perhaps that was the biggest trigger of it all, but the fact you truly liked König was certainly a major supporting factor.
“Colonel König is intimidating, yes, but most men are intimidating; save for the present company,” you shot back with a little grin, earning a scowl from said man, “Nonetheless, I’m not scared of him. He’s never raised his voice at me, nor given me a reason to believe those stupid fucking rumors people want to spread about him. He’s always treated me with respect, more than any of the other cocky bastards around here do really. Those stupid rumors come from people who are jealous of him, either his rank or his superior physical condition, OR from people who have nothing better to do with their downtime than come up with spooky stories.”
Your best friend’s eyes went owlish in shock, pulling the corners of your lips into a frown of frustration at her childish behavior, and you prodded her shin gently beneath the table. 
“For fuck's sake, stop looking at me like that. You know I respect and even like the colonel, okay? So no matter what silly shit floats around, I’m not going to believe a word of it until the day I see these supposed cruel actions in person,” you sighed, then pled with her softly, “Just- Just drop it, please.”
When she didn’t respond, you felt a prickle of uncertainty send the hairs on the back of your neck on end. You tried to catch her gaze only to see it traveling off to your right before finally coming back your way with a nervous laugh. 
“I- I didn’t realize it but… he was sitting behind you,” she murmured softly. 
Spine snapping straight, you gaped at her in shock. 
“No way, you’re joking, right?” you hissed. 
The slow shake of her head made your heart fall into your guts, pounding heavily in your veins as you nervously turned in the direction she had looked, only to find him putting up his dirty dishes and exiting the room. 
“Mother fucker!” you groaned, “So- So he heard all of that?!” 
When she nodded, you were almost sure you were going to faint. You and König were on good terms as nurse and patient but that didn’t mean you wanted him to think (however correct it was) that you had some kind of crush on him with how adamantly you defended him. 
Food suddenly didn’t seem so appetizing with the nerves buzzing in your stomach. Pushing your plate away, you got up from the table and quickly dismissed yourself with the excuse of paperwork piling up on your desk. It wasn’t a complete lie at least. Medical documentation was never-ending, especially in a military base with accident-prone soldiers. You only hoped you could make it back to the medical wing without running into the big man himself and making things more awkward. 
Dumping your food, you shoved the plate into the dirty dish bin and rushed out into the hall. You were grateful to find the foot traffic minimal, allowing you to cross the base as quickly as your short legs could carry you. Your anxiety was already high enough with the worries of what König now thought; adding another unknown variable into the mix would spell certain disaster for your mental stability.  
The instant you stepped foot into the medbay and found it empty, you shut and locked the office door before snagging up one of the throw pillows off the old beaten-up couch and screaming into said pillow with all of your might. You screamed and screamed, until your throat hurt and your heart pounded loud in your ears, until you felt that nervous buzz of panic fade from your skin and leave exhaustion behind. 
“I’m gonna need a fucking drink tonight,” you sighed as you dropped into your computer chair, “She’s gonna owe me for this shit.” 
With that last thought, you fell back into the monotonous routine of finishing up charts and notes from the day. 
The next few hours passed quickly into days and days into weeks, time flying by in a blur as you buried yourself in your work and your patients in hopes of forgetting your troubles. You were both relieved and frustrated that you hadn’t seen the colonel at all during that time; relieved you wouldn’t have to deal with an awkward situation but frustrated because, despite the anxiety, you missed his presence. It wasn’t until Horangi assisted a hunched-over König into the office three weeks later that you realized he’d been gone on a mission during that time, a mission that had obviously gone askew. Immediately you jumped to your feet and ushered the duo over, prepared to balance the injured giant on his other side if necessary.
“What happened?” you demanded as Horangi helped König sit on the medical bed. 
“Nothing serious,” König replied, letting out a hiss when Horangi jerked his hand away and none-too-gently removed the makeshift bandage from the bigger man’s side.
A shudder ran down your spine at the amount of drying blood shining against his tight black shirt and then you eyed the tear in the fabric. His pale flesh was covered in different states of drying blood but the bleeding of the visceral wound seemed to be, thankfully, stopped for the time being.
“Good god, not serious?!” you snapped in disbelief. 
König had the gall to roll his eyes as you muttered to yourself about men being stupid and stubborn. As you leaned in closer to examine the gash, Horangi moved aside to give you room. Luckily, the cut looked relatively clean but the depth of it was concerning, with multiple layers of tissue peeking through the wound. 
“Hey, I’m going to debrief with the general,” Horangi commented suddenly, “I’ll let him know you’re getting fixed up first.” 
König gave a small nod in reply as the other operator left the room and you stepped back with a half-smile. 
“I’m going to have to stitch that up. If you’re not comfortable with me doing it, I can call the doctor in but I have done them plenty before if-”
“Ja, I want you to do it,” he cut you off quickly. 
That wasn’t a surprise. Nobody enjoyed having to call one of the docs in during the middle of the night unless it was for a dire emergency because they were all, understandably, cranky when woken. 
“That’s fine,” you agreed, biting your lower lip before gesturing at him and adding, “I- I’ll need you to remove your shirt so I can get a better look and stitch you up.”
König let out a noise of understanding as you turned away to wash your hands and grab out all of the necessary equipment you’d need for the stitches. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t deep enough to have chanced any vital areas, especially since it was on his side, but there was no doubt it was still deep enough that it wouldn’t heal properly without treatment. How he was even upright and talking like normal was beyond you. You were just glad you had been an RN in the emergency room before transferring to KorTac, your time there invaluable for all the shit you’d had to put up with here between busy doctors and never-ending patients. 
“Alrighty, let’s get this show on the… road”
As your gaze met bare, toned, skin, your brain immediately melted into nothingness. Gone were all the years of medical training and college; all that remained were the hormones of a bitch in heat. Never, in the entire year you’d worked with KorTac, had you ever seen him shirtless. He was hardly in here, between his elite skills and natural resilience against being hurt, and the only times he had been were generally for serious things that the doctor would have to take care of, or for routine visits that wouldn’t require him shirtless. So to say you were struck dumb was an understatement. 
Logically, you had known König was fit. It was practically written in all of their contracts to stay in peak physical condition, and the compression shirts he wore did nothing to hide the defined muscles in his arms and stomach, but seeing him without the fabric was even more daunting than you had expected. 
“Schätzchen?” he asked softly, voice full of something that sounded like concern. 
His gloved fingers touching your face finally jerked you out of your entirely inappropriate fantasy of getting the chance to lick up and down his abdomen and you nearly squeaked in shock, barely concealing the noise by clearing your throat. 
“Uh, sorry, I- I don’t know what came over me, uh, okay. Can you lie down for me, please? I’m sure you know this works but I’m gonna numb you up first. It’s probably going to sting,” you warned him.
Setting the equipment on the metal rolling table, you took the last terrifying steps toward him and it took everything in your power not to moan as you realized you were directly face to face with firm pecs until he finally sat. You managed to shake away the lustful thoughts on your own this time and pulled on gloves before grabbing up the syringe. 
“Ready?” you asked, not daring to meet his eyes lest you get too flustered to work. 
“Ja, go ahead,” he rumbled. 
With a steadying breath, you carefully poked the needle into the top layers of the wound and pushed the plunger down slowly. You’d seen other soldiers cry over the pain of a lidocaine injection into an open wound, not that you could blame them, but, of course, König took it all without even flinching. The man really acted like he was made of stone. It was insane. 
“That should kick in in just a few,” you murmured, capping the needle and placing it into the sharps container, “Wanna tell me what happened while we wait?” 
Feeling safe back near the cabinets rather than within arms reach, you finally let your eyes find him and watched in disbelief as he sat up without even a wince, cool blue eyes clear and steady.  
“Ah, nothing serious. There was one hidden upstairs and we didn’t realize it until- well, this,” he replied after a moment, gesturing to his side with a half-chuckle half-sigh. 
A frown turned down your lips at that. God, you really had it lucky, sitting here in your cushy position as a nurse. Sure, the hours sucked, and seeing people hurt (or god forbid worse) really sucked, but at least your life was never in danger like theirs. You hated thinking about him getting hurt like this, no matter how silly it was since he could obviously take care of himself. Swallowing hard, you nodded and grabbed another fresh pair of gloves, snapping them on with a forced smile. 
“Well, I’d hate to see the other guy then,” you teased softly.
It was a joke, and yet it wasn’t. You had no doubt his assailant hadn’t made it out of there in one piece. 
“Let’s just say, not even a talented nurse such as yourself could help him when I was done with him,” he replied.
You couldn’t help but giggle at how his eyes crinkled beneath the faded black smudges, further conveying the amusement lacing his tone. 
“I bet. I know I wouldn’t want to be your enemy, colonel,” you snickered, “Okay, lie down again for me please.”   
König leaned back with a little groan and tucked his right hand behind his head, keeping the angle perfect to avoid stretching or squishing the skin around the wound. There was a comfortable silence as you readied the needle with thread in the driver. You gave him a testing tap around the wound, to which he quickly affirmed he felt nothing before you got to work. You quickly cleaned the area, put a clean drape around it, and then snagged up the needle. It had been a bit since you’d done sutures on such a wound but you quickly fell back into the familiar rhythm with simple interrupted stitches. 
“You’re rather good at that,” he complimented quietly.
You felt your cheeks warm at the praise as you sent him a warm smile and replied, “Thank you. It’s nice to know I haven’t lost my touch since leaving the emergency department.” 
“Oh? What made you decide to come here instead?” 
Well, this was new. While König was always kind to you, it generally never went beyond small talk. You knew as much about him as he did you, though you couldn’t lie and say you were complaining about the change. That little fangirl you tried to hide so deep inside was dancing with elation over the fact that he was trying to keep a conversation going, but it wasn’t helping your little crush one bit.  
“Honestly? Better pay and escape from a bad home situation,” you admitted honestly, “I just didn’t have a great environment to accel in and when my cousin mentioned joining you guys, it just made sense.”  
Tying the last end into a square knot, you snipped off the extra thread and stood with a proud smile, examining your handiwork happily. 
“Gotta say, you’re a model patient, colonel. I don’t wanna see you in here for this again though,” you playfully scolded. 
As you turned away, you were startled by a sudden deep laugh. Not a chuckle or a snort, but a full-on belly laugh, and you were absolutely certain you’d never heard anything more beautiful.  
“And here I was thinking about getting stabbed again just so I could see meine süße kleine krankenschwester.” (My sweet little nurse)
“Hey, no using languages I can’t understand,” you retorted with a giggle, ducking your face in hopes of hiding the way your cheeks flushed with lust at the sound of his mother tongue. 
Why was that so sexy, hearing him speak German? Not that his speaking normally didn’t affect you but, when he fell into his old language, it just did something different. Another laugh rumbled from the man as you went about cleaning up the utensils and you had to grin. You knew, going forward, you’d do anything you could to hear that laugh again. A small glimmer of hope flickered to life in your chest as you ungloved and tossed them in the trash. Maybe this was the beginning of an actual friendship… or more.
As you scolded yourself over the lofty dreams, a presence against your back put a sudden stop to your motions, every last bit of you freezing in place except your heart which pounded valiantly in your veins. 
“You- You shouldn’t- shouldn’t move around so much,” you whispered breathlessly as you tried to shake off the sudden nerves, “Don’t wanna rip your stitches out already.” 
He was all but impossible to ignore, standing so close that you were certain you’d bump into him if you breathed too hard. Taking a small stabilizing breath, your eyes closed in frustration as you caught his scent, the faint smell of sweat, gunpowder, and something spiced, possibly a faded cologne or body wash overtaking your senses. It took all of your will to keep moving and cleaning up as if everything was normal. As you grabbed the antiseptic, you could visibly see the way your hands shook and mentally berated yourself. You were literally just sticking a needle into his side minutes ago. Why was this affecting you so much?! 
You grabbed onto the counter for balance and lifted onto tiptoe only to have the bottle suddenly snagged from you and shelved in its spot just barely within your reach. It would have been completely fine, a nice gesture even, if it weren’t for the fact he had to lean against you to do it. With his free hand resting against your waist for balance, you could feel every- single- fucking- inch of his form against yours. Forbidden images of him taking you right there against the counter flooded your thoughts when you got a very personal feel of his dick against your lower back, completely prominent in its shape even while soft.
The fates were fucking testing you to the ends of your limits at that point. 
“You should get a step stool, kleines, don’t want to hurt yourself,” he mused quietly.
A shaky nod was all you could manage, your fingers wrapping around the edge of the solid countertop and holding on for dear life. You couldn’t find it in you to reply with the mortifying lust clouding your mind. With your luck, instead of thanking him you’d ask to repay the favor with a blowjob. 
Deep breaths. In and out. After a few moments, you knew you should respond. You had to do something to diffuse the situation because he was obviously content to let you stew in your thoughts.  
“You- You- Uhm, you should go rest,” you stammered out after a moment.
And then he was gone. The instant he stepped away, you nearly dropped to the floor, your knees weak and back now startlingly cold. Tucking some hair behind your ear, you spun around and prepared to give him the usual medical spiel about resting and letting the wound heal, only to lose the ability to speak when a large hand cupped your jaw. 
“I’m sorry if I scared you.”
His voice was soft, warm with a tinge of amusement dancing at the edges, and suddenly you remembered the stupid conversation you’d had with your friends in the canteen. Your tongue felt thick and immovable so you settled for shaking your head no, trying to convey that he, in fact, hadn’t scared you.
“No? No, what?” he asked. 
Swallowing down the urge to moan, you shakily replied, “You don’t- didn’t scare me.” 
Your plump cheeks burned hot at the way his icy blue eyes subtly changed, lids lowering into an indiscernible expression as his irises searched your face thoroughly. 
“Are you sure? You’re suddenly much quieter, Schätzchen.”
A little curse escaped before you could catch it as you subconsciously melted into his hand when his thumb started stroking your jawline. The calloused texture rubbed deliciously against your soft skin and sent goosebumps down your arms.    
“I-I’m sure,” you answered, voice barely audible even in the silent room, “Just… unexpected.” 
When he leaned down and hovered just above your ear, you swore you were about to combust. He was close, too fucking close. Delectably within reach and yet so far away in the ways that mattered. Your thighs clenched together in search of some kind of relief when his scent infiltrated your senses again, the same as before but so much stronger, and you couldn’t help the way your stomach fluttered traitorously. 
“That’s all, hmm?” he rumbled lowly. 
Oh. That bastard! He knew what he was doing to you and he was teasing you about it! How was this the same quiet colonel that you practically had to bully into saying more than a few words just a couple of weeks prior? You lifted your hands and prepared to shove him away, to give him a piece of your mind, but he threw you another curveball with the sudden sensation of soft lips against your throat.
“Ah!” 
This time, your gasp was loud, rivaled only by the pounding thump of your heart threatening to burst from your chest. 
“I asked you a question, kleines, I expect an answer.”
A truly pathetic whine fell from your lips as your head fell to rest against his shoulder. How were you supposed to answer him?! Your tongue felt thick and immovable as you soaked in the sensation of his skin against yours.  
“König, please, I don’t- I don’t understand what you want here,” you finally managed to croak through parted lips. 
He let out a small hum but didn’t answer right away. His lips busied themselves trailing barely-there kisses up and down the side of your neck. When you felt his nose brush against your ear, you nearly jumped. Every touch threatened to make you come apart right then and there and it was quickly becoming too much.
“Is- Is this about what I said a few weeks ago?” you pushed for an answer. 
Pausing in his thorough exploration of your flesh, he let out a little breath before humming back, “Mmhmm. Imagine my surprise when I heard you defending me, Schätzchen, heard you tell your little friends so certainly that you were not scared of me; that you even liked me.”
Your nails instinctively dug into his bare arms as you fought for your sanity, his teeth scraping your neck and raveling away what little sensibilities you had left. 
“At first, I doubted what I heard,” he spoke as his hands took hold of your hips and squeezed softly, “You are so soft and sweet. Untouchable to someone like me. I’ve spent the last few weeks debating, agonizing over if you might feel what I felt. Tonight though, with the way you looked at me? I could finally see it.” 
When he pulled back, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze again but he was quick to correct that with a little nudge. 
“Still so shy.”
Your thoughts were running a thousand miles an hour; fear, lust, and disbelief were shouting at you in so many different ways that you thought you would pass out from overstimulation alone. While you’d thought about this happening almost every night since you’d first talked with him, you’d always assumed he would be a fantasy only. You never imagined the quiet, steadfast, colonel would ever have a mutual interest in you. Part of you wanted to drop to your knees and thank him for even touching you, while the other waited with panic-laced worries for him to announce that it was some kind of prank. 
When his calloused fingers trailed up your face and into your hair to scrape your scalp, it was like he flipped a magical switch. Gone were the panicked thoughts, the uncertainties, and the insecurities. All that existed were the beautiful sensations he created. 
“Does that feel good?” he asked. 
You nodded dumbly and let your eyes flutter back open as you heard him laugh, flushing with desire as you were once more pinned with those gorgeous eyes of his. 
“This isn’t some kind of joke, is it?” you finally questioned, managing to get somewhat of a grip on your psyche, “Because if it is, I’ll-” 
A sharp sting through your scalp cut you off as he tightened his fingers in your hair, following your silence with disappointed tongue clicks. 
“Do I really seem like the kind of man who would joke about something like this?” 
You shook your head slowly, muttering a defeated little “No sir” in response. Your efforts were rewarded with the release of your hair, hand tenderly cupping the nape of your neck instead. 
“I need to hear you say you want this before it goes any further,” he instructed you, firmly but gently.    
As your lips parted, you hesitated. Of course, you wanted this, but here? Now? Your eyes darted nervously to the cracked door before catching his once more. 
“I- I do but… König, anyone could come in and, god, you’re hurt and-”
You watched in awe, voice trailing off into silence, as he leaned in and pulled up his sniper hood, revealing a black gaiter which he promptly tugged down. The peek of a strong, square, jawline peppered with a short stubble made your eyes open wide in shock but your attention was quickly captured by his full lips, curled up into a smirk with a peek of sharp canines flashing through. Fuck, if only part of him was this gorgeous, you were afraid to see him completely bare. 
“As I have said, it’s not serious, and you’ve so graciously patched me up,” he purred softly, eyes boring holes into your sole as his lips almost touched yours, “Now, tell me kleines, do- you- want- this?”
“Yes, god, ple-”
Fingers dug hard into your soft sides as he finally captured your mouth in a gentle kiss and you instinctively stretched up to meet him, hands sliding up to wrap around the back of his neck in an attempt to convey just how badly you wanted him. Words weren’t your forte but actions… actions you could manage. 
A quiet groan escaped your lips as you felt his hips press against yours and hands came down to grab your ass. Your shock quickly turned into concern when you felt him start to lift you. 
“König, no!” you scolded him as you wiggled out of his grasp. 
The colonel had the gall to look confused by your rejection. 
You gestured to his freshly sewn stitches and bit out, “I don’t care how much you say it’s fine. I refuse to be the reason you pop your stitches and I’d rather not have to put a needle in your again. Just…” 
Your stern words trailed off as you saw the mild pink tinge across his upper cheeks. He was too adorable. Huffing out a low sigh, you rested your hands against his firm pecs and gently pushed him back toward the bed. 
“Lay down, I’m shutting the door real quick.”
Thankfully, he didn’t bother arguing, just turned with an annoyed grunt as you shut and locked the door. The annoyance in his eyes dropped the instant you carefully climbed up onto the bed with him, letting him guide you to sit over his thighs comfortably. 
“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it in a way that you won’t get hurt,” you warned him. 
“Verdammte Hölle,” he scoffed lowly, fingers digging into the plush softness of your thighs, “Fine, if you insist, just get over here.” 
A gasp passed from your lips into his when he dragged you in closer and you felt the bulge of his cock already growing through his cargos. And what a fucking power rush that was, to know you were affecting one of the strongest men in existence. You! A short, chubby, nobody-famous nurse and this god-like man wanted you. 
“Fuck,” you breathed out quietly, hands coming to rest on his chest as he guided your hips down against his, “König, I said-”
“You may be on top of me, but you are in no way in control, understood, Kätzchen?” he bit out huskily. 
Your heart stammered in your chest but you managed a little nod in response. Apparently subdued by your acceptance, his hands spurred you into motion once more, tearing a broken moan from your chest as his hardness pressed deliciously against the apex of your thighs. Even though clothing, he was working you up entirely too easily.  
He attacked your neck once more and growled out a terse, “Scheiße, I always knew you’d sound fucking beautiful like this. Mein kleines engel, so verdammt unschuldig und süß.” (My little angel, so fucking innocent and sweet)
While you had no idea what he said, it was clearly something sexual and you couldn’t help the way you shuddered. It was kind of funny. When you first met him, you’d been shocked by the pitch of his voice, having expected such a giant being to have a deep voice; and now… now you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
“Oh? Magst du es, wenn ich mit dir Deutsch spreche, mein dummes kleines Kätzchen?” (“Do you like when I speak German to you, my silly little kitten?”)
Instinctively, you ground down in search of relief as his voice filled your head and took over your thoughts. 
He chuckled softly and murmured, “You do like it. I can feel the way your sweet little cunt throbs against me each time. Do you always react this way when I speak German around you?” 
Your body froze at that, face heating and flushing down your chest as you finally understood what he was saying. No fucking way.
“You- You can feel it?” you asked meekly, hoping he’d say no. 
“Mmhmm, Deine kleinen Zuckungen sind so süß- Ah, there is it again,” he teased, “So, kleines? Is it like that every time?” (Your little twitches are so cute)
With a frustrated groan, you quietly admitted it before ducking down to bite onto his shoulder. You felt a thrill of satisfaction when you felt his cock jump between your thighs but didn’t even stop to gloat, too enthralled by the taste of his skin. You didn’t dare leave marks, unsure of the protocol for his position, but gods you wanted to. Maybe another time, if you were given the chance. Scraping your teeth across his flesh, you scooted back to sit farther down his thighs and began to make your way down his collarbone and chest until you were able to gently bite the meatiest part of his pec. 
“Ah, Scheiße!”
Before he could react further, you continued on and swiped your tongue across his nipple, earning a guttural moan and his fingers curled into the hair at the back of your head. For a moment, you questioned if he intended to stop you but, when he didn’t, you did it again. The little muffled curses he let out only worsened the mess in your panties and you had to restrain yourself from reaching down to ease the ache. It wasn’t until you were kneeling between his thighs and working at his belt that he finally stopped you.
“Kätzchen, just what do you intend to do?” he asked as you nibbled softly at the skin above his pants. 
You let out a huff and rolled your eyes up at him. 
“I intend to suck your cock, if that’s okay, colonel,” you shot back. 
He mumbled something quietly under his breath then added louder, “While I would love that, I don’t know how much time we have.” 
As you finally worked his belt open and began tugging his pants down, you couldn’t help but pout. 
“That’s not fair. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” you whined. 
The way his eyes rolled back and his hips arched made you grin. 
“And I would love to see those beautiful lips wrapped around my dick, but another time, kleines. Right now, I need to be inside of you.”
Your cunt clenched instinctively at that, at the promise of another chance to touch him, and you finally relented with a sigh. 
“Fine, fine, but you owe me later,” you replied, letting him pull you back over his lap. 
With a chuckle, he pulled you into a kiss and mumbled, “Of course, Schätzchen. Anything you wish, whenever you wish- except for right now.”
A flush crossed your face, deep and hot, as his words settled into your chest. When he began tugging at your jeans, you helped slide them and your panties down until they were hooked around just one leg. You weren’t given much time to ruminate on the feeling of your bare flesh against the scratchy fabric of his pants before the sensation of calloused fingers sliding down your slit stole both your attention and breath. 
“Ooh, look at you,” he crooned lowly, fingertips pushing between your lips and sliding back up until he found your clit, “So wet for me already.” 
Worrying your lower lip, your forehead rested against his cheek and your nails dug into his shoulders as you nodded slowly. Of course, you were. Who wouldn’t be when Adonis was touching them? He moved slowly, gently, almost as if afraid to go faster. It felt good but it wasn’t enough. 
“Ich wünschte, ich könnte jetzt meine Zunge in dieser heißen kleinen Muschi haben. Ich wette, du schmeckst himmlisch.” (I wish I could have my tongue in this hot little pussy right now. I bet you taste like heaven.)
“Ffff-Fuck!”
A broken whine escaped your lips when he finally slipped a lone finger into your core and it took everything within you not to collapse at that moment. One of his felt like two of yours but reached even deeper. You couldn’t resist rocking into his motions as he carefully worked you open. 
You didn’t even get a chance to cover your mouth before he suddenly forced in a second one and curled them against your g-spot, a moan spilling from the big man beneath you as you mewled.  
“More,” he demanded as his other hand tugged up his hood once more and smashed his mouth against yours, “Again.” 
You didn’t stand a chance in hell at ignoring his commands with the way he began hooking his fingers in a constant come hither motion against your spongy patch of nerves. Tears burned in your eyes as you fought for breath against the onslaught of sensations plaguing your body. It’d been so long since you’d let anyone else touch you, relying on your own hand and toys for release, and fuck if it wasn’t overwhelming. 
“König, ple-please!” you begged weakly, unable to keep from trembling against him as he brought you dangerously close to the edge. 
For all his talk about not having time, he was surely taking his. His fingers felt incredible but you needed to feel his cock. 
“Yes, Kätzchen?”
“Want you. Need you, please!”
His low moan was the only answer you needed, shaky hands diving down to work the waistband of his pants lower and tug at his boxer-briefs. You couldn’t even keep your eyes open to focus, too lost in the delirium of your approaching climax and the pleasure dancing along your skin. 
When you finally pulled him free, you instantly shoved his hand away and shuffled up until his tip was kissing your entrance, but he halted your motions before you could do more. 
“Don’t go too fast, alright? I don’t want you to get hurt,” he instructed you gently. 
You barely managed to open your eyes enough to meet his and nodded hastily. Go slow. You could do that. And yet, when he finally allowed you to move, you were tempted to just slam down, no matter how massive he felt. However, your self-control prevailed, only held back by the reminder that he’d probably stop you if you got hurt. 
It wasn’t until you started to lower yourself and you felt the fat head of his cock begin to split you open that you really understood why he’d been warning you, prickles of pain and pleasure dancing behind your clenched eyes as you sucked in a harsh breath. It didn’t matter that you were soaking wet and more than ready, your body was fighting to take each inch. 
“That’s it, gutes Kätzchen, just like that,” he praised softly. (Good Kitten)
Finally, after what felt like forever, your hips settled down against his and you let out a little mewl of satisfaction. 
“Jesus fuck,” you breathed out huskily, “This feels- Fuck, I can’t even describe it.”
“I know.” 
His voice sounded as tightly wound as you felt. Every muscle in your body ached but none more than the throb of your core. 
“Can- Can I move?” you asked. 
“If you’re ready.”
Steading yourself with his broad shoulders, you lifted up and slowly dropped back down, nails digging into his skin as he touched every last inch inside of you. When your eyes fluttered open, your cheeks bloomed a deep red as you found him already staring at you with awe in his gaze. It would have been anxiety-inducing if it weren’t for the bruises his fingers were leaving on your hips and the quiet little grunts falling under his hood. Knowing he was watching you though, it was daunting and lit a flicker of doubt in your chest, demanding you do everything to make sure you looked and felt your best for him. 
“Ah, wait, here,” he gasped suddenly, halting your motions as he tugged up your T-shirt.
You almost stopped him, wary of fully exposing any parts of you that you felt uncomfortable about, but he was too quick. He tucked the hem into the neckline of your shirt and instantly tugged down the cup of your bra, one hand wrapping around and lifting your breast while the other hand palmed your back and jerked you forward until he could wrap his lips around your nipple with a heady groan. 
“Fuck, König!” you whimpered, shocks of bliss making you pulse around his cock.
His moan was loud against your flesh as his hand left your back and guided your hips into motion once more, the dual stimulation enough to make you shudder. Bit by bit, you were able to work up to a faster pace, until pleasure started to take hold of your mind and you lost all sense of rhythm, more focused on coming than putting on a good show. 
“Ohgodohgod ohmygod!” 
A heavy growl vibrated against your skin as he grunted out between kisses, “Oh Gott, das ist es Kätzchen, kommst du mich holen?” (Oh god, that’s it kitten, are you going to come for me?)
You buried your frantic cries into your palm as you felt tears begin to fall. It was too good, too much, and you fucking loved it. The burn of his cock stretching your walls brought you so close to the edge that it hurt, each thrust making your clit throb with need. You managed a panicked, muffled, plea and were rewarded with teeth sinking into your flesh and a calloused thumb on your sensitive nub, tearing a hellish screech from your lips as you were instantly pushed over the edge. Your hand barely contained the frantic moans pouring from your throat as he pushed you through the crest. Every swipe of his thumb and thrust of his cock brought on another wave of pleasure, again and again until you lost the ability to do more than exist. 
With an audible pop, he pulled back from your abused skin and relaxed back against the bed, moans starting to rival yours in volume as his hands took hold of your hips and his knees bent under you. When he started thrusting up to meet each bounce of your hips, the fog finally took over completely. Leaning back enough to wrap your hands around his forearms, you gave over that last bit of control and just followed his lead. The sound of your ass meeting his thighs became louder, faster, in the quiet room; a lewd soundtrack coupled with the squeaks of the medical bed and your unstifled noises of pleasure.
“Mein gott. Look at that face. Not a single thought going through that sweet little head of yours, is there?” he groaned, chuckling when you suddenly leaned forward and buried your face in his neck with a meek hum, “No, no, don’t be embarrassed, kleines. It’s a compliment to have such an intelligent woman so brainless from my cock.”
You instinctively clenched around him and nuzzled further into his neck out of mortification. God, that shouldn’t be hot! You shouldn’t like that and yet you do. How did he manage to weave together such sexual praises into something that sounded like genuinely sweet compliments? 
“Sit back up, now,” he commanded sternly, “I want to see that beautiful face when I come.”
The change in position instantly put your senses back on edge, the press of his cock against your sweet spot all too tantalizingly perfect as he muttered gentle praises and led you back into rhythm, words slowly dissolving into the most unholy whimpers and grunts you’d ever heard. It wasn’t long until you couldn’t make out a single thing he said, English long evolved into German between frantic moans of your name. 
Suddenly his grip became overwhelmingly painful and you let out a squeal of panic, but the pressure was easily forgotten in favor of bliss as he began to thrust into you violently. It was almost as if he were trying to fuck himself into your cervix, a scary thought knowing he had the length to do so, but every attempt you made to lift off of him and create space was thwarted by his superior strength. And gods, if that didn’t do the dirtiest things to you. Even when he released one hip, he was powerful enough to keep you in place with just one hand, the other suddenly reappearing between your thighs. 
“Oh- Oh god, yes, König, just-” 
All it took was a few circles around your sensitive clit before you were thrown over the edge once more with a scream. Wave after wave rocked through your body as you rode him hard, thighs shaking and heart pounding as you scratched at him and cried his name all too loudly.  
“Oh Scheiße, ich werde kommen, bitte, nicht aufhören, nicht aufhören, bitte, bitte, bitte!” (Oh shit, I'm gonna come, please, don't stop, don't stop, please please please!)
Even in German, his message was clear. Fighting through your own hazy pleasure, you tightened your thighs and clenched around his cock eagerly, whimpering his name and pleading with him to come. You weren’t given any warning as he suddenly grabbed your neck and jerked you down into a ravenous kiss, a mixture of high-pitched keening and growling moans pouring into your mouth like oxygen when he buried himself one last time to the hilt. 
Tremors ran through your being as you felt his cock twitching, heat filling you with each pulse, and you couldn’t help the tears suddenly building in your eyes again. 
“Holy fuck,” you whined against his lips. 
When you clenched around him again and tried to move your hips, he put a stop to it immediately, arms wrapping around you and trapping your body to his. 
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed darkly, “You start that andI won’t want to stop, and we definitely don’t have time for that.”  
A little grin crossed your lips as you melted into his hold and murmured, “Aye, aye, colonel.” 
His little snort of a laugh jostled you against his frame only for him to still and hold you tighter. You turned to rest your ear against his chest and listened to the steady heavy beat of his heart while your fingers trailed up and down his arms. 
“That was okay, right?” he asked after a moment, the uncertainty surprising. 
It took some effort to get him to let you go but you managed to finally sit up, hands slowly pushing up the edges of his mask to just until his lips were visible again, and you kissed him softly. 
“Better than I’ve imagined,” you whispered softly. 
He tensed for a moment before a little huff of a laugh puffed across your lips. 
“You’ve imagined this?” he asked back. 
Chewing your lower lip as you lifted again, you gave a shrug and replied, “Yeah, a lot, if I’m being honest. As you heard, you’re an intimidating man, colonel, but really, it only adds to your appeal.” 
It felt weird to be so openly blunt about your attraction to him but you supposed you were past the point of second-guessing things. His eyes searched your face intently for just a moment before he smiled, a warm, heart-pounding expression that made your knees weak. Fuck, maybe he hid his face for that reason. It wouldn’t do to have everyone tripping over themselves at his beauty. 
“I’m glad to hear that,” he murmured softly, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, “As much as I want to hold you longer, I’m afraid we should get decent before someone comes along and-”
“Fuck, yeah, you’re right!” you gasped, eyes darting to the door instinctively as you clambered off the bed. 
The moment you released your hold on him, your knees tried to give out but he was quick to give you a balancing hand. You thanked him quietly as you fixed yourself quickly- Well, as quickly as you could when your legs felt like jelly and your head was still spinning. When you were finally all dressed, he was carefully sliding his shirt back on. 
“Wait, let me make sure we didn’t tear anything loose.”
He gave you a look that told you how ridiculous he thought you were being, but he humored you with a sigh after a moment. Leaning in, you looked over the stitches and were happy to find everything still intact. 
“Good to go! Thank goodness,” you sighed happily, then flushed as you looked up at him, “Uh, you’ll have to come back in seven to ten days to get the stitches removed, which I’m sure you know. Other than that, just take it easy. Any damage you do will only prolong how long you’ll have to be on light duty.” 
“I see, and if I need assistance with any in the meantime? I can come to you?” he teased, eyes crinkling warmly at the edges.
Unable to hold in your grin, you replied, “Always. I’d be glad to help with anything you need, colonel. Just come find me.”
You tossed him a coy smile before making your way to the door, only to get spun and pushed up against the wood without warning. One big hand cupped your neck and forced your head up as he leaned in and kissed you, soft and light in a way that made your toes curl. 
“Sorry, needed one more,” he purred softly, chuckling as your face went hot. 
“Get out of here before I make up a reason to keep you here overnight,” you bit out teasingly. 
He gave you a mock salute before releasing you and allowing you to open the door. His gaze became soft once more when he studied you as you leaned against the door frame. 
“I’ll see you again soon. Have sweet dreams, Kätzchen.” 
“You too, König.”
When he finally walked away down the hall, you couldn’t help but watch him go. God, that man had the most perfect ass, and don’t even get started on that broad back. Biting back the flare of lust threatening to rekindle in your stomach, you ducked back into the office and ran a hand through your now-tangled locks, letting out a low sigh. The clock on the wall read two thirty in the morning, which meant you thirty minutes to get König’s chart typed up and then you could finally head home for the night. Thoughts of a hot shower and your soft bed had you groaning. Yeah, you were definitely going to sleep good tonight. 
“Sooo, how was your weekend?” Lisa asked, eyebrows jumping up and down in anticipation as you slid into the seat opposite her and Mark. 
You simply threw her a nonplussed look, not daring to give her any inclination. Lisa was good about keeping your feelings secret but you weren’t sure she could contain herself in public if you told her about what had happened with König, not to mention you didn’t want to chance him getting some sort of backlash if the fraternization rules applied to you. You’d have to do some research on that later if you two were going to meet up again at some point. Logically, seeing as you were contracted as a nurse and not as a solider, you hoped that you were outside of those rules but you weren’t certain.  
“It was fine. Nothing too crazy,” you lied seamlessly. 
She seemed to deflate at that. 
“Really? When I saw the colonel was back I had hoped…”
“Well, you hoped wrong,” you replied blandly, “I saw him but nothing happened. It’s fine, really. Probably for the best to maintain that professional boundary.” 
A body collapsing onto the bench beside you made you jump and nearly spill your food until you caught it at the last second, your heart racing from the shock until you saw it was one of Mark’s buddies at your side. 
“Hey, Ian,” Mark greeted, “What’s up?”
He was obviously as confused about his friend’s appearance as you were, but your confusion didn’t last long when he suddenly turned to face you. 
“So, I heard from a little birdie that you were single right now. Is that true?” Ian pressed, lips quirking up into a grin.
You shot a deadly look at Mark, earning a silent apology as his face heated, before you addressed the private next to you.
“I am but-”
“Great! You should come out with me Friday night! I have a weekend pass and I need a pretty lady to take with me to the city!” 
Well, shit. You knew nothing about Ian. You hoped he was a decent guy and wouldn’t be upset over you rejecting him since he was Mark’s friend but men were tricky. How were you supposed to turn him down without hurting or angering him? As your lips parted to answer, a massive hand suddenly slid around your throat and silenced you. Eyes wide in fear, you let out a shocked whimper and froze in place, only to catch the familiar scent of a warm cologne as a hard body pressed against your back. 
“There you are, liebling, I’ve been searching all over for you.”
König. Oh. Fuck. Tilting your head back at his insistence, you let your eyes meet his icy blues, obviously crinkled in joy. When his fingers tightened around your throat, you couldn’t help the way your face flushed in delight, your entire body warming with insatiable need as he descended and planted a loud smacking kiss on your forehead.
“Come now, I’ve brought lunch for us.” 
The entire table was silent during the exchange and you could practically feel Lisa vibrating in her seat, but you didn’t dare look away from him to address her. Nodding once, you rose to your feet where he finally released your throat. He interlaced his fingers with yours and you instinctively scooted closer, enjoying the body heat and comfort he put off.
“I’ll uh- I’ll see you guys later,” you threw back as he led you out of the canteen. 
The walk was quiet as he dragged you through the halls until he finally stopped at his office. With a little murmur, König opened the door and ushered you in first. The moment the door slammed shut, you were unceremoniously shoved against it, a little oomph escaping your lips at the impact. A weak moan left your lips as you felt his breath against your ear.
“Ungezogenes kleines Kätzchen,” he purred huskily “From now on, you will let it be known that you’re with me, got it?” (Naughty little kitten)
You hesitated before nodding and replied, “Y-Yes sir. I wasn't sure- I didn’t know what-” 
“Shh, shh, I know, schatz. It is not your fault. I didn’t make my intentions quite clear. You belong to me now.”
A shudder ran down your spine, forcing a moan low in your throat as you practically preened under his possessive claim. Despite the threatening tone, you felt no fear. If anything, it turned you on more than ever. 
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. Now get on my desk,” he instructed. 
Your confused glance was met with a smirk and a wink as he pulled away. 
“I prefer to have my dessert first, Kätzchen. We can eat lunch after.” 
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danibeanie · 4 months
Text
your gonna remember me
Astrology observations (synastry)
the wounded healer chiron😋
-people you have chiron synastry are usually people that your never gonna forget. Wether it be a good or bad ending there is always gonna be a hidden feeling of what ifs between the 2.
Moon conjunct Chiron synastry = hidden feelings of confession we both feel something for each other but it just can’t happen. (1st BOY I REALLY liked and I just knew he liked me 2 but he was leaving for college out of state and we both knew it wasn’t gonna happen)
Mercury conjunct Chiron synastry=hurt through the topic of communication.usually didn’t care to communicate. (2nd boy that hurt me with not caring to fix things on how they went down.. all he had to do is apologize.)
Where your Chiron is also depends on how this synastry play out- for me this synastry occurs in my 9th house which rules travel and school… how this occurred for me was one person is always leaving wether it be graduating school and going their separate ways or getting a scholarship and leaving the state meaning I CANT SEE THEM😍
Saturn synastry oh boy.
-a man usually has his saturn conjuncting my planets and while it is good for long term it’s also hard if you don’t have any saturn aspects in your chart or saturn energy in general. Your gonna feel a bit trapped and they’ll probably remind you of your parents somehow lmao.
There’s always a age difference in this synastry wether it be 2 years ,4, or even 1 the Saturn person will want to commit to you and will feel the need to stick by you. Way stronger if they have Capricorn or Aquarius placements.
These people are usually karmic (Saturn ruling karma) and these people just come into your life outta nowhere 😭 mostly needed.
natal venus retrograde rant :/
-It’s so hard having this in your chart because every person you’ve ever had a bond with or romantic partnership will always affect you WAY MORE than it should. we take relationships to the extreme and it’s so easy to get disappointed from people that don’t reciprocate how much we give and give. I’ve learned that the hard way and so many call us guarded and bit cold but just know it’s cause of past hurt. LITERALLY PAST HURT 😭.
NN synastry
-NOW THIS ONE… I had my Venus conjunct a guys north node and it felt so free and easy going yet terrifying and a bit uncomfortable. The north node is what we’re trying to learn in this life and people that put planets in it usually give a lesson to learn built off of the planet. in this case I had a relationship (Venus)with NN and it didn’t last long, we both got hurt in the end but I know that this was meant to happen AS A LESSON. I felt like the best version of myself and you can just be yourself. The nn perosn had a HUGE crush on me and u can feel the pure admiration from the nn🥲
I’ve been in both sides b4 and I have a man’s Venus conjunct my nn rn and I just wanna give and give to him. His Venus falls into my 12th house where this conjunction occurs but it’s also unconditional support and It’s a bond-like no other.
The planet person and any axis points that conjunction another north node will always help you in your path. Neither will forget but the nn person will always be thankful for the planet person for pushing them to where they are now.
In conjunction synastry😀
-you know that saying opposites attract well yeah this is literally OPPOSITES ATTRACT. When you date someone you have inconjunction with *cough *cough (gemini and capricorn) it can give u a doozy. I can literally write essays about this dynamic but I’ll keep it short and sweet. If you ever get into a relationship with someone that has Inconjunction with most of your planets and add this with 4th house and 8th house synastry…. Its something both of you will learn from. You’ll think back at this relationship and be like wow I dated him?!?😭
some background info I was a senior in highschool and even though I knew people I wasn’t super popular like at all lmao. this guy that was known to be a huge player and just super attractive had a huge crush on me since forever. We ended up dating and that was my 1st ever thing with anyone and let’s just say I got hurt obviously but I left. So many people questioned this relationship “she’s so nice” and “he’s so cocky” well yeah. It’s just 2 different people that are attracted to each other but just think too differently to make it work.
What makes this so strong is that we both really don’t know how this person acts. It’s like with opposition even though their opposites there’s similar traits. Inconjunction just screams going into a job you’ve never worked at and just learning everything on the spot.😭
8th house synastry
If a man’s planets fall into your 8th house just know that they want u so bad. LMAO JK no but actually they want to know everything about you and the attraction is off the charts with this one. - the boy from earlier had his sun in my 8th house and the tension between us was something I never felt b4. I felt uncomfortable and rushed. He was shining light on this relationship he wanted with me and I felt like he could see right thru me. (I have Pluto in the 8th house so I felt like my boundaries where even higher.) if you’ve never interacted with your 8th house sign your either gonna make the worst enemies of them or the bestest friends. 8th house also rules 1st when it comes to anything sexual. He was my 1st kiss
I have so much more to say but I’ll save it for another post and thank you guys for the likes on my last post!😙💘
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